


Angel in Red Volume Two

by RCs Many Posts (Parker4131970)



Category: due South
Genre: F/M, Part Two, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-08-17 11:45:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8142571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parker4131970/pseuds/RCs%20Many%20Posts
Summary: Ben is out of the hospital and staying with Margaret.





	1. Chapter 1

Many men have lived before Agamemnon / all unwept and unknown/ are lost in the distant night/ since they are without divine poet/ (to chronicle their deeds).   
Horace ~ Odes  
****   
After a few days of recuperation and two IV bags of fluids, the time had come for Constable Benton Fraser's release. Layers of skin flaked off of his sun burnt face and he sat uncomfortably in a wheelchair.   
“Don't worry, Benny, at least this way you finally get a vacation.” Ray reasoned as he pushed the Mountie down the hallway toward the elevator.  
“I don't think a broken leg constitutes much of a vacation, Detective Vecchio.” Inspector Meg Thatcher countered dryly. Diefenbaker trotted ahead, glad he couldn't hear the humans and their squabbles.   
“Perhaps there's something I could do at the consulate; paperwork, answering the telephone.” Ben suggested looking from Ray to Meg hopefully.  
“Nope, not for a few weeks at least.” Ray shrugged before craning his neck to watch a young, brunette nurse walk away.   
“You should concentrate on getting better, Fraser.” Meg rested her hand on the Mountie's shoulder, squeezed it gently and gave him a wink.   
“Okay,” Ben gave in, returning Meg's wink.   
“I have to stop by the pharmacy before I go home.” Ben held up the prescriptions the doctor had given him.   
“Home?” both Ray and Meg said in unison. Ray halted the wheelchair in the middle of the hall.   
“Yes, my apartment – home.” Ben elucidated.   
“There's no elevator.” Ray pointed out, again pushing the wheelchair.   
“You can stay with me, I have a spare bedroom.” Meg offered.   
“He can stay at my place, there's always someone around if he needs something.” Ray argued.   
“I don't want to inconvenience anyone, really, I'll be fine in my apartment. Diefenbaker will be there should I need anything.” Ben pointed out, trying to make them see his reasoning.   
“NO!” Again, Ray and Meg agreed on something.   
“Come on, Fraser, choose.” Ray said as he pushed the wheelchair through the automatic doors of the hospital's main entrance.  
“Oh dear,” Ben thought to himself.   
“Perhaps we should make it a fair choice. We'll flip for it.” Meg suggested diplomatically.   
“Okay,” Ray stopped on the sidewalk and began digging in his slacks' pocket for a quarter.   
“Here,” Meg held out a coin, waiting for Ray to stop digging.  
“We can't do it with that, it's Canadian.” Ray protested looking at the loonie in her hand.  
“So is Constable Fraser.” Meg pointed out, glaring at the detective. Begrudgingly, Ray took the coin, turning it over to examine both sides.   
“Call it, Inspector,” Ray said as he flipped the coin.  
“Heads,” Meg called out. Ray caught the coin and slapped it against the back of his left hand, covering the results. A moment of dramatic silence later he pulled his hand away to reveal the head of the coin.   
“He's all yours, Inspector.” Ray shrugged, handing her the coin back.   
Ben kept a relieved sigh to himself. He didn't look forward to recuperating at the Vecchio house. Having Francesca's undivided attention sounded like a nightmare. Plus, it gave him time to get to know Meg better.   
***   
Meg's Neighborhood …  
“I'm tellin' you, Fraser, you'd have someone there to wait on you hand and foot at my house. Ma fixes three meals a day.” Ray said as he rounded the end of his precious Buick Riviera to retrieve the wheelchair from the trunk. Meg helped Ben out of the car after crawling out of the driver's side back seat.   
“Ray, I'll be fine. The Inspector won the coin toss fair and square.” Ben repeated. Where he would recover had been the topic of conversation all the way from the hospital to the pharmacy and now to Meg's apartment. Ray had wanted best two out of three coin tosses, with an American coin.   
“You are such a sore loser, Detective.” Meg shook her head as she took Ben's crutches while he sat down into the wheelchair.   
“Bite me.” Ray snarled, carrying Fraser's personal belongings bag. Meg gave a derisive snort and began pushing Ben toward the entrance to the upper-middle-class apartment building.   
Once inside Meg's third floor apartment she pulled the heavy drapes covering the sliding glass doors leading to a small balcony. A comfortable lounge chair and table sat out in the weather, a perfect place to watch the world go by.   
“I'll check on you later, Fraser, bring Dief's kibble and stuff.” Ray offered, not stepping farther into Meg's lair than necessary.   
“Thank you kindly, Ray, I appreciate it.” Ben shook his best friend's hand before he left.   
A long moment of silence crawled by as Meg stood in the center of the living room, staring at Ben. She didn't know what to say. Away from the consulate and duty they could be themselves. She wasn't exactly sure who that was.   
“Do you want anything, something to drink?” Meg spoke first, crossing the living room to the kitchen, a small, windowless room lined with cabinets and appliances to the left and a small, dining table to the right.   
“Yes, water, please.” Ben answered, glad to have something normal to do. He sat in the living room, looking around at Meg's décor. The walls were an eggshell white, the couch a wet sand color with Mediterranean blue throw pillows. A matching easy chair sat in the corner, beside the balcony. Along the wall beside the door stood a night stand with a modest television and a VCR beneath it. An oriental rug in hues of brown and black against a cream background covered the hardwood floor.   
“I haven't really took the time to decorate properly, but it's comfortable enough.” Meg said as she gathered ice cubes from the freezer.   
“It's lovely, I like it.” Ben complimented. He studied a set of hand drawn pictures of dogs above the television.   
“Did you draw those?” Ben asked as Meg handed him the water glass.   
“Yes, the dachshund is, well, was, mine. The others belonged to my friends in high school.” Meg smiled as she stood beside Ben. Diefenbaker made a noise in his throat, agreeing with Ben. The old wolf-dog had laid down near the balcony, blocking the door as he lay in a shaft of mid-day sun.   
“Thank you.” Meg said softly, her cheeks pinkening.  
“Do you still draw?” Ben asked, hoping to coax her into talking freely.   
“Not since coming to Chicago. I don't have as much free time.” She sighed before crossing the room to sit in the easy chair.  
“That's a shame, you're very good.” Ben adjusted his position to look across the room at her.   
“Thank you, that's kind of you to say.” Meg shrugged, looking away shyly.   
After a few minutes Ben had finished his water and Meg had tidied her spare bedroom. She hoped to impress Ben, to make him comfortable.   
“Do you have to go to the consulate?” Ben's voice startled Meg as she smoothed the fluffy pillow at the head of the twin bed.  
“Oh, Ben, yes, I have to make some arrangements this afternoon. There's a forest's worth of paperwork from the hit and run.” Meg answered, smoothing her slacks' thigh nervously. She hadn't heard Ben wheel himself down the hall and to the left, stopping in the doorway.   
“Perhaps you could bring it home and I could assist.” Ben offered, his expression hopeful Meg debated with herself for a minute. Ben needed his rest but she knew he'd go crazy without anything to occupy his time.   
“That'll be fine, as long as you don't over do things.” Gently, she touched the un-burnt side of his face and watched as he closed his eyes.   
“You have my word.” Ben's eyes flew open and a lopsided grin transformed his face.   
Meg couldn't help herself, she laughed out loud.   
“Take it easy, I'll be back in a few hours.” Meg squeezed his hand.   
****


	2. Dinner

Meg's Apartment ….  
Ben watched Meg slide into her car from the window in the spare bedroom. She moved so gracefully, with confidence and elegance. The way her walnut colored hair bobbed made him want to run his fingers through it. Her scent drove him nuts.   
Sighing, Ben turned away from the window. Looking around he saw the trouble Meg had gone to to help him. She'd shoved the twin bed into the corner as well as the dresser to make way for his wheelchair and crutches. She'd bought a blackout curtain for the window as well. It wasn't a large room, but she'd hung a poster of the Canadian Rockies to brighten the atmosphere. On the pillow lay a note :   
Ben, Take a nap while I'm gone. I'll be back with dinner. Sweet dreams. ~ Meg =)  
She'd signed the note with a smiley face. Such a girly thing warmed Ben's heart.   
“Sweet dreams indeed.” He slipped the note into the breast pocket of his flannel shirt and prepared for an afternoon rest.   
****   
After work ….  
Meg skipped lunch and left on time, for a change. She gathered the files and forms she needed and an unfinished incident report for Ben to finish. Ottawa wanted everything in triplicate, as did the Chicago Police Department and the insurance company.  
“Constable Turnbull,” Meg called through the intercom system as she loaded her briefcase.  
“Yes, Inspector?” The blond Mountie answered a moment later, his posture stiff and face implacable.   
Meg looked up at him, frowning at the way he took her orders so seriously.   
“I'm leaving for the day, make certain to lock up and try not to trip the alarm this time. The alarm company said one more time and they'll raise our monthly rate.” She chided the younger officer as she zipped her oxblood leather briefcase.   
“Yes, Sir, you have my word.” Turnbull said solemnly.   
Meg nodded and left the consulate for the day. She couldn't hide the pep in her step. Having someone waiting for her at home felt good. Dinner and a cozy evening with Ben were next on the agenda.   
****  
Meg turned the doorknob and pushed the door open gingerly. She hoped that Ben had found her note and took her suggestion of napping while she worked. In one hand she carried her briefcase and purse while the other held their dinners.   
“Hello?” Ben's voice called through the apartment.   
“It's just me, Ben.” Meg set her load on the kitchen table and went to see him.   
He lay on his back in bed, a pillow doubled up beneath his leg cast. As Meg stepped closer Ben raised his head.   
“Good afternoon,” Meg greeted him, leaning against the door frame. She drank in the sight of him in the bed, his hair tousled and his toes sticking up from the end of the cast.   
“Hello, how was everything at the consulate?” Ben sat up with some difficulty.   
“Same consulate, different day. Constable Turnbull asked after you and there were several phone calls from people concerned about you. You're very popular.” Meg teased a bit, her dark eyes twinkling.   
“It's the uniform,” He shrugged, the corner of his unburnt lips pulling into a half smile.   
“No one calls after Turnbull when he's injured.” Meg stepped across the room and perched on the side of the bed at Ben's feet.   
“Then I don't know what it is.” Ben ran his thumbnail over his eyebrow.   
“I bought Mexican, hope you like polio con ceso. There's extra rice and burritos.” Meg stood up again, ready to bring the Styrofoam boxes into the bedroom.   
“I'll wash up and join you momentarily.” Ben swung his cast over the bed. This wasn't his first leg injury but it was the first time he'd had to wear a cast. The thing felt heavy and itched. He couldn't wait until the doctor took it off.   
“Alright, let me know if you need help.” Meg said as she left.   
A few minutes later Ben wheeled himself into the living room and up to the small kitchen table. Meg had set out two glasses of iced tea, flatware, and plates. She stood at the table dishing out wonderful smelling Mexican food.   
“I can fix something tomorrow if you'd like.” Ben offered, feeling guilty for burdening Meg.   
“That would be a miracle. I haven't been to the grocery in two weeks.” She chuckled dryly.   
“Thank you kindly for dinner, Meg.” Ben took her hand, running his thumb over the back of her fingers.   
“I've often wanted to have dinner with you. Too bad it wasn't under better circumstances.” She returned the gesture, squeezing his fingers.   
They ate in comfortable silence, occasionally sneaking glances at each other. Once they locked gazes and burst out in awkward laughter. Ben watched as Meg giggled, tears gathering in her dark eyes. He'd never seen her laugh. The sound mesmerized him; it's full, rolling sound, like sweet organ notes.   
“This seems like a dream.” Ben said as he wiped laughter tears from the unburnt side of his face.   
“As long as it isn't anything like the dreams I had before your fall.” She shivered before looking up again.   
“I'm glad you did.” Ben said solemnly, taking her hand again.   
“You're welcome.” Meg almost whispered, suddenly feeling shy.   
“Besides, I owed you one for coming to the emergency room for me, and for admitting me after my heart stopped.” She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips but Ben saw amusement in her eyes instead of malice. Meg's face softened a moment later when she saw the blush rising in his face.  
****  
The Spare Bedroom ….  
Ben sat up in bed, sweat drenching his face and chest. The covers had twisted around his legs in the night. He clutched the side of the mattress, the feeling of falling beginning to fade.  
“Ben?” Meg's sleepy voice brought him out of the nightmare. She stepped closer, her pale face visible in the dim light through the blinds.   
“I'm alright, it was just a dream.” Slowly, Ben pushed aside the bedding. Meg stepped closer, running her fingers through her hair. Silently, she sat down at the side of the bed.  
“Can I sit with you a while?” she asked, her voice soft in the near darkness.   
“If you wish.” Ben scooted toward the wall, lifting his casted leg along. Meg moved closer, laying her head on his shoulder.  
“I have to turn in an update tomorrow, you can look over it before I go.” She started talking about things at the consulate, distracting him. First it was things about Turnbull's antics and then various demands from Ottawa. After a while Ben yawned, his eyes drooping.  
“Lay back, try to rest.” Meg urged gently as she pulled the sheet up.   
“Stay?” Ben asked quietly, looking up at her, his eyes hopeful.  
“There isn't room.” Meg argued weakly, her hands still holding the white sheet. “I have to go to work in the morning.”   
“Meg?” Ben spoke, still gazing at her as she straightened the bedding.   
“Hmmm?” she answered, avoiding his gaze.   
“Stay?” he repeated.   
Meg shook her head, smiling as she climbed into bed beside him. “Just because you asked.” she said as she lay on her side, curled into his side.   
“Thank you kindly.” Ben brushed a light kiss against her forehead.   
“I want to have this every night for the rest of my life.” Ben told himself silently.  
****


	3. Chapter 3

Tuesday …   
Ray called Inspector Thatcher's apartment at nine o'clock the morning after Ben's release from the hospital. Ben managed to answer the phone just before the call went to the answering machine.   
“Hello, Inspector Margaret Thatcher's residence, Constable Benton Fraser speaking.” he stated mechanically.  
“Hey, Benny! How you feeling?” The phone line brought Ray's brash voice through loud and clear.   
“Good morning, Ray. I'm feeling fine, and you?” Ben asked politely, running his thumbnail over his left brow.   
“I was wondering if Thatcher's around, thought I'd visit, guy-to-guy.”   
“What could Ray have to say that he wouldn't want Meg to hear?” Ben wondered to himself.   
“No, she's at the consulate today. Do you need something?” Ben asked, puzzled.  
“Nah, I don't need anything, I just thought we could talk, thought I might bring by a few files to, to, uh, get your opinion on.” Ray's voice came across quieter and reluctantly.   
“That would be fine, Ray, I'll be expecting you. Drive carefully.” He heard a dry chuckle on the other end.  
“Yeah, sure, Fraser.”  
****   
Twenty minutes later, Ray knocked on the door using the 'shave and a hair cut, two bits' signal everyone knew.  
“Come in, Ray.” Ben called from the recliner where he'd decided to nest for the day. Dief greeted him eagerly, hoping for a sweet treat, or a walk, he didn't care which.  
“Hey, Dief, give me a minute.” Ray stroked the old wolf between the ears before continuing inside. Under his arm he carried a handful of manila file folders.   
“Hey, it must stink, being a forced couch potato.” Ray perched on the coffee table across from Ben.   
“It is quite boring, Ray. I'd much rather be at work.” Ben missed being able to go about his business easily.   
“Listen, you haven't said anything, but I thought you might like to take a look at the files on the hit-and-run. I asked about Thatcher 'cause I know she's being a mother hen about you working. She threatened to go to Welsh if I so much as brought the case up when I talked to her this morning.” Ray rested one elbow on his knee as he talked, the files beside him on the coffee table. His well tailored, Armani suit and tie looked casual but Ben sensed a tension in his friend.  
“Inspector Thatcher has insisted I rest as much as possible.” Ben agreed, wondering why she discouraged Ray from bringing up the hit-and-run.   
Ray snickered, “You call her that when you kiss her too?”   
“Ray!” Ben growled, frowning at his crass partner.   
“Ah, come on, I saw her and you at the apartment building and the hospital all that time. It's gone from 'Inspector Margaret Thatcher' to just 'Meg' by now.” Ray tried, unsuccessfully, to stop laughing.   
“Ray, the Inspector and I are friends,” Ray rolled his eyes but remained silent, “I care for her, yes, but I also have the utmost respect for her.”   
“I'm glad for ya, Fraser, and I can see she cares for you and utmost respects you too.” Ray relented. Ben saw sincerity in his green eyes. He needed Ray and Meg to get along.   
“Come on, let's get back to real reason I came over.” Ray tapped the file folders beside him.   
“Good, I'll make a pot of coffee, we can spread them out at the kitchen table.” Ben nodded, glad to be off the subject of his fledgling love life.   
Hobbling around on crutches, Ben made a pot of coffee and found a pack of chocolate chip cookies in Meg's cabinet. Ray had grabbed a couch cushion and laid it on a kitchen chair for Fraser's leg. Within a few minutes they'd submerged themselves into the case.  
Chicago PD files indicated that the red, Ford had been stolen three weeks before the accident in Williamsport, Wisconsin. The real owners, a Methodist pastor and his wife, were glad to hear the car had been found. Fraser had drawn a sketch of the hit-and-run driver but so far no one had identified the young man.   
“This is a wild goose chase, Fraser.” Ray complained, sipping his third cup of coffee.   
“Ray, it's only been a few hours.” Ben encouraged cheerfully. Ray gave him a reproachful, sideways glance.   
“It's been weeks since the hit-and-run and I still haven't been able to crack it.” the detective groused, running his hand over his scantily clad pate.   
Ben didn't understand Ray's problem with the case. No one had been seriously hurt in either the hit-and-run or his fall. Why did Ray feel so strongly?   
“You must have several, more pressing cases, Ray,” Ben began, staring at the second generation Italian-American.   
“Yeah, I do, it's just that this one's got me on the ropes. Tracking down the stolen car was easy, almost like the guy wanted it found.” Ray shook his head. With a grumble, Ray stood up from the table.  
“I'll check in with my informants tonight. Wish you could be there, buddy.” He pasted on a cheerful face as he sipped his coffee.   
***   
By four o'clock, Ray and Ben had put the files away and retreated to the living room. Ben sat comfortably in Meg's recliner, bark tea in hand.  
At five o'clock, Meg unlocked the front door. First, she slipped out of her high heels. Seeing Ray, she balked.  
“Oh, Detective Vecchio.” Meg's expression changed from surprise to cool calculation.  
“Inspector,” Ray nodded cordially – for him.  
“How was your day, Inspector?” Ben asked, trying to sound innocent.  
“Hectic, the personnel director in Ottawa wants to send a temporary replacement for you.” Meg helped herself to a mug of bark tea and the last chocolate chip cookie.   
“Yes, that's wise. The doctor said I'd be in this cast for at least six weeks.” Ben pouted for a split second.   
“Well, I guess that's my cue to leave.” Ray stood up from the couch, jangling the Riviera keys in his pocket.  
“Ray, would you mind walking Diefenbaker?” Ben asked before the detective could get away.  
“Yeah, sure, I need the exercise too, I guess.” Ray shrugged. He retrieved Dief's leash from the key hook by the door and motioned for the wolf-dog to follow.   
“Come on, let's let the lovebirds have a little privacy.”   
“Ray!” Ben growled.   
“Why you ….” Meg began. Ray closed the door behind them before she finished.  
****


	4. Chapter 4

The Consulate ….  
Meg sat at her desk, alone with a bowl of soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. She stared at the telephone, contemplating whether or not to call and check on Ben. Lying curled up against him had felt nice. He felt warm and solid against her.  
“He's alright, it was just a bad dream.” She murmured to herself before taking a half-hearted bite of her grilled cheese. A phone call from Ottawa put Fraser on the back burner.  
****   
After Ray delivered Dief back to the apartment – fed, walked, and jelly donutted – Meg and Ben were free to talk.  
“I've made arrangements for Constable Orion to take your place until your leg is completely healed.” Meg spoke first as she sat on the sofa, her feet pulled up beneath her and a mug of chamomile tea to sip on.  
“I've never met him.” Ben answered, his eyes drooping.  
“He and Turnbull were in the same graduating class at Depot. Hopefully, he learned more than Turnbull.” Meg saw a smile flit across Ben's face. Even with the patience of Job, Turnbull tried Ben's nerves.  
“Yes, hopefully.” Ben agreed.   
“It's getting late. I think I'll turn in.” Meg feigned a yawn, hoping Ben would follow suit.  
On cue, Ben began struggling to get out of the recliner. Meg didn't know if she should help him or let Ben do it himself. She didn't want to injure his pride. Instead, she held his crutches until he needed them.   
“Thank you, kindly, Meg.” Ben clasped her hand, crutch and all. His blue eyes searched hers longingly as his thumb caressed her knuckles.  
“You're welcome, Benton.” Meg barely breathed.   
“He wants more than 'You're welcome'.”   
A moment later Meg felt Ben's warm breath before he pressed a kiss to her cheek.   
“I am thankful for you, Meg. You saved me.” His voice sounded husky.  
“Anything for the asking, Ben.” Meg shrugged, biting her lip. The feel of his hand stroking her hair calmed Meg's nerves. She felt like melting into him then and there.   
“Ouch!” Meg's eyes snapped open a second later when Ben's cast collided with her bare foot.  
“Oh dear.” Ben backed away, his face red.  
“I'm okay, it was more surprise than a pain.” she assured him.   
“I must apologize, Meg, how clumsy of me.” Ben dug his thumbnail over his eyebrow furiously as he stared at the floor.   
“At least he didn't call me 'Inspector' or 'Sir'.” Meg told herself. How many times had he called her that when he became flustered?   
“Ben, it surprised me, that's all.” Meg put her hand under his chin and lifted his gaze to hers.  
“I don't break that easily.” She gave him a sincere smile.   
“No, you don't break that easily.” Ben smiled back.   
Together, they walked to their separate bedrooms. Meg lay awake for a long while, not really tired. She listened as Ben's breathing regulated in deep sleep. She hoped he wouldn't have any nightmares tonight.   
“Well, maybe just enough of one to get me back in his arms.” she thought.  
****  
Wednesday ….   
“I left money for the groceries and a taxi, you know all the phone numbers if you need anything.” Meg said as she stuffed the last of the files in her briefcase she'd brought home the night before.  
Ben wheeled himself along behind her as she walked briskly toward the front door. He'd been awake for hours, listening as Meg went about her morning routine of showering, dressing and eating breakfast, though what she called breakfast Ben called a disgrace. She ate two rice cakes and a large glass of grapefruit juice. Ray would have quipped that it wasn't any wonder Thatcher came to work cranky everyday with a breakfast like that.   
“You needn't buy groceries, Meg, I want to contribute.” Ben protested, stopping in the middle of the living room as she slipped into her suit jacket.   
“Ben, use the grocery money and take a taxi.” Meg turned on him, her dark eyes narrowed and lips pursed. She hadn't used her 'Inspector' voice on him since finding him flat of his back five floors up.   
“Yes, Meg.” Ben answered dryly, masking his annoyance.   
Meg zipped her briefcase with finality, trying to decide how to handle the situation. She'd never imagined actually living with Ben. Her imagination had only gotten her as far as the bedroom.   
When Meg looked back at Ben she saw the still peeling side of his face and remembered how close she'd come to losing him. She remembered the premonitions she'd had of him falling and how her heart had stopped. Pushing him away would be just as bad.  
“I'm not very good at this.” she said, gesturing with her hands.  
“Neither am I, my apologies, Meg.” he looked up at her, his face earnest.   
“I want to take care of you, not order you around.” Meg admitted, feeling nervous at being so bold. She picked at her nails during the silent beat between them.  
“We'll figure it out.” Ben gave her a reassuring smile. “You'll be late for the consulate.”   
Quickly, Meg gathered her briefcase and purse and headed out the door. Looking back through the door, she waved good-bye.  
****   
Author's Note: Callum Keith Rennie The Invisible 2007. Watched it, loved it. =)


	5. Chapter 5

One Month Ago …   
Joshua hummed along with the music piped into the electronics store as he set up a display of 3.5 inch floppy discs. He'd had a great week at work and in his criminal justice classes at the junior college.   
“Hey, Josh, come on buddy, go home, study. The way my juvenile delinquent son is going, I'm gonna need someone on my side someday.” Mr. Taylor wiped his pale, balding head with one beefy hand as he walked onto the sales floor from the stock room.  
“Okay, let me finish this display.” The part-time college student leaned out from behind the plastic display.  
“Nah, go on home. It'll be there tomorrow.” Mr. Taylor waved the younger man off.   
“I don't mind.” Joshua offered.  
“Go on, get outta here, you're trespassing already.” They both chuckled.   
“See you tomorrow.” Joshua said as he headed eagerly toward the stock room to retrieve his leather jacket. He slid his lanky frame into the soft, battered leather easily and pulled his keys out of his jeans' pocket. Mr. Taylor waved from the front door as Joshua drove his battered Chevy Chevette down the dimly lit street.   
Three blocks later, Joshua pulled up to a red light and took advantage of the long pause to tune in his favorite oldies station. He smiled when “Woolly Bully” came on. His friends teased him about his oldies music and his oldies car. Still, it was paid for and got him back and forth to work and school.   
As the traffic light seem to doze on red, Josh looked around at the businesses surrounding downtown. It wasn't a very big town, or very exciting. A few buildings rose three stories above Main Street but most were one story store fronts. He hoped to come back to his hometown with a college degree and do some good for his community.   
Joshua watched as a new, red Cadillac cruised by on the yellow light and plowed into an elderly woman waiting at the corner bus stop, a buzzing, yellow street light glinting off her plastic rain bonnet. The old lady's groceries flew through the air as she fell backward into the grass between the sidewalk and the parking lot beyond.   
“Oh, my God,” Joshua breathed as he watched in horror as the Cadillac backed up and changed course, rolling smoothly along the opposite side of the street toward him. Time slowed as he stared at the driver, a man in his early fifties with dark beady eyes and a pasty complexion. They locked gazes for a brief moment before the Cadillac disappeared into the night. #1 Mayr graced the front plate of the expensive car's dinged bumper.   
After taking a second to process, Joshua pulled his car over to the bus stop and checked on the elderly woman lying on her left side beneath the bus stop shelter. Leaving the motor running, Josh leapt out. The woman lay eerily still, her glasses askew on her face and blood on her forehead. Joshua checked for a pulse at her right wrist but felt nothing. He then checked at her throat with the same result.   
“He killed her.” Bile rose in the young man's throat as realization sank in.  
“He saw me, he saw my car.” A million things ran through the young man's mind. Barely containing his stomach, he raced to a pay phone and dialed 9-1-1. He gave a hasty account of what happened and where the woman lay. When the sound of sirens hit his ears, Josh hung up on the dispatcher and jumped into his car. He took every back street he knew to get home.   
****   
Chicago …  
One Month Later …   
Ray drank his fifth or sixth cup of coffee as he walked through the bull pen to his desk. Elaine greeted him but the detective could only grunt.   
“Well, well, I didn't know there were zombies in Chicago.” Detective Jack Huey snickered as he leaned on his desk, watching Ray walk in.   
“Hardy har har, A zombie would go hungry trying to eat your brains.” Ray shot back, sneering in return.   
“Ray, someone on line two for you, says his name is Rocco.” Elaine's voice cut through before Huey or Gardino could muster a comeback.   
“Thanks, Elaine.” Ray picked up the phone and punched the button for line two.   
“Detective Vecchio here,” He listened as one of his shadier informants gave him the rundown on the hit-and-run driver. He didn't say where, or how, he'd gotten the information but Rocco had always come through.   
“Thanks, Rocco, I owe you one.” Ray hung up quickly and got ready to go out again.   
***   
No-Tell Motel …   
“Listen, Mom, I can't come home right now, I told you, Mayor Beady saw me when he hit that old lady.” Joshua tried to explain – again – as he paced outside his second story hotel room in a socially sagging section of Chicago. If it weren't for Western Union the young man would have starved in the month since he'd arrived. Thankfully, his Mom had a soft spot for her only son.   
A staggering man and a giggling blonde in leopard print wobbled their way up the stairs to the second story rooms. She patted the past his prime footballer on the chest as she tried not to wince at his beer stank breath.   
“Mom, you know I can't come home, Chief Dixon and Mayor Beady go hand-in-glove, always have, since high school. You said so yourself.” Joshua warily eyed the parking lot below as he listened to his mother plead once more for him to come home or go to the police.  
“I know, Mom, I love you too.” Joshua hung up, truly considering reaching out to the Chicago cops, turning himself in for the hit-and-run. He hung up feeling guilty.  
***   
The Grocery ….  
Ben tried to keep from growling in anger as he let the bag boy wheel his cart out to the parking lot. It had taken two-thirds longer to buy the few things on Meg's list than it should have. Normally, Ben would have found the things, purchased them and held the door open for at least three, little old ladies by the time he wheeled himself through the check-out line.  
“Thank you kindly, son.” Fraser found himself saying to the bag boy as he closed the trunk on the taxi.   
“No prob.” the teen shrugged, pocketing the two dollars Fraser handed him for a tip.   
****   
Meg came in, dropped her briefcase by the front door and slid out of her sensible shoes. How two inch block heels were sensible was beyond her. The aroma of baking bread and cooking meat greeted the Inspector. Following her nose, Meg stepped into the kitchen.   
“Oh, hello, Meg.” Ben smiled up at her from the kitchen table where he sat with his leg elevated on a throw pillow.   
“Hello. This smells wonderful. I hope you haven't been on your feet.” She turned to him after checking the oven.   
“Not more than five minutes.” Ben answered honestly.   
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK  
“Open up, it's the cops!” Ray's voice carried through the front door.   
Grumbling, Meg opened the door to the detective.   
“Come in, Detective Vecchio, we were just about to sit down to dinner.” Meg put her hands on her hips, a universal sign of irritation.   
“You can eat later, right now I have news about the hit-and-run driver.” Ray pulled out his notepad.   
“I'll set another place.” Meg said with an irritable grunt.   
Ray filled Meg and Ben in on Rocco's tip as they ate beef pot roast, roasted vegetables and a loaf of home made bread with iced tea.   
“We should go to the hotel and question the young man.” Fraser suggested as he stood up to gather the dirty dishes.  
“Yeah, and how you gonna catch him, Benny, your wheelchair or crutches?” Ray asked sarcastically.   
“Nettlesome as it is, Detective Vecchio has a point, Fraser.” Meg shot said detective a baleful glare.   
“I got this, Fraser, no problem.” Ray shrugged, confident he could collar one guy by himself. It had been a while since he'd done leg work solo.   
“I'll assist, this is a joint investigation between the Chicago Police Department and the Canadian Government.” Meg piped up.  
“How do you figure that, Inspector?” Ray leaned forward in his seat, staring her down.  
“My Constable was a victim, Detective, that's how I figure it.” Meg also leaned forward, staring him down coldly.   
Ben looked down at Diefenbaker who seemed to roll his eyes and continue with his own bowl of kibble. All the Mountie could do was shake his head. No matter how hard he tried Inspector Thatcher and Ray just would not get along.  
“Alright, but I'm drivin'. I've ridden with Fraser, no way in hell I'm ridin' with another Canadian.” Ray thumped the kitchen table with his open palm.   
“I'm sure your vehicle is less conspicuous in the seedier side of town anyway.” Meg shot back. That sent Ray into a tizzy, defending his precious Buick Riviera. Ben let them bicker for a change.   
****


	6. Chapter 6

No-tell Motel …   
Ray cruised the Riv into the lot and parked where he could look at all the doors. Beside him, Inspector Thatcher tapped her fingers on the door frame as she searched the windows for herself.   
“Alright, my informant said the hit-and-run driver was on the second floor somewhere, shouldn't be too hard to find him.” Ray began, checking his service revolver and the one he kept in an ankle holster.   
“You stay with the car.” the detective ordered before swinging the car door open.   
“Oh no, I'm coming, end of discussion.” Meg protested, chafing at being ordered.   
“You don't have jurisdiction, you'll be in my way.” Ray argued, pointing toward the car Meg had just stepped out of.  
“Ha! In your dreams.” the Inspector scoffed, matching Vecchio's long legged pace.   
“Where are you going, Detective?” Meg demanded.  
“To find the driver, Inspector, where else?” He didn't even cast a glance over his shoulder.   
“We should begin with the clerk first, narrow the search.” Meg informed him, doubling her pace to get in front of the detective. She heard him growl low in his throat, undoubtedly holding his tongue.   
“Ugg, you're as bad as Fraser in your own way.” Ray huffed, changing directions quickly. Vecchio ceded.   
“I'll take that as a compliment, Vecchio.” Meg thought to herself, squashing a smile as she trailed behind him.   
****   
Meg's Apartment …  
Ben loathed using a dishwasher but found it necessary. Thankfully, there weren't very many dishes to be washed. He stored the leftovers and scraped the dishes before putting them into the machine. The slow cooker, pots and pans he quickly washed by hand. A few minutes later and Ben sat down, his leg propped up again. Dief wandered over, sniffing at Ben's exposed toes. Ben felt the wolf's warm breath and tickling whiskers against the sole of his foot. He resisted the urge to jerk.   
“Do you think we should wait up for the Inspector and Ray?” Ben asked the wolf, hoping to distract the animal before he decided to lick his foot. Dief seemed to shrug before turning circles on his dog bed.   
“I suppose you're right, they are both highly trained law officers. Though I hope they don't turn on each other.” Ben admitted. Dief huffed, almost like a human chuckle.   
****   
Meg made it to the hotel lobby's front door first and stood still, arms crossed.   
“What?” Ray sneered.   
“Well, aren't you going to open the door for a lady?” Meg said, glaring at the American detective.  
“When I see one I will.” Ray shot back.   
“Philistine,” Meg sniffed, opening the door for herself.   
Inside the lobby, covered in dark, wood paneling and golden rod paint, sat the clerk. He barely looked up from his comic book when the bell over the door chimed.   
“Yeah, we're …”   
“Thirty-eight fifty for the night or twenty for two hours. Use something beside 'Mr and Mrs Smith' on the register.” he shoved the sign-in book toward Ray, still not looking up.   
“Hey, just a minute …” Ray started again, trying to dispel the man's misconception.   
“Take it or leave it, there's other places around for mattress dancin'. Chica here probably knows a few.” the clerk glanced over his glasses, his jowls shaking just a bit.   
“How dare you, I am an inspector with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.” Meg burst out, her face reddening with anger.   
“Yeah, whatever, fetish slut.” the clerk muttered to himself, shifting his considerable girth in the chair behind the counter.  
Ray's eyes bugged out as he watched the Inspector lunge over the four foot high counter, hands outstretched and her teeth bared.   
“Inspector!” Ray caught her around the waist as the clerk bushed himself backward, out of her grasp. She strained against Ray, out for blood.  
“Chicago Police Department, we're looking for a young guy, looks like this.” Ray pulled a drawing of the suspect from his pocket as Meg squirmed in his other arm.   
“Second floor, room 208.” The clerk wisely gave up the answer, his back to the wall, barely out of the Inspector's reach.   
“Thanks. Might wanna put the comic book down more often.” Ray advised him, glowering. The clerk nodded, mouth agape.   
****   
Joshua lay back on the bed, trying not to think about the creepy crawlies housed in the cheap hotel room. The cable television had quit the day before and he didn't have the money to go out. He'd used the money his mother sent him to buy a loaf of bread, peanut butter and a few other, non-perishable staples. He still had nightmares, the police chief knocking on the door, dragging him out of the room, the mayor running over him with a huge, fire breathing Cadillac. Waking up soaked in sweat had become a routine for Joshua.   
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK “Chicago Police Department, open up.” A male voice followed the heavy fisted knocking at Joshua's door.   
“Oh no!” Joshua panicked. The room only had one window, the one next to the door. He headed toward the bathroom, searching for a place to hide.   
“Crap,” The shower had a starkly clear shower curtain, nothing to hide behind.   
“Come on, let us in, we just wanna talk.” The man's voice carried through the small, thin walled hotel room. Joshua heard the door slam against the wall.   
“I give up.” Josh walked out of the bathroom, hands up, heart praying he'd get to see him mom at least once before he died.   
“Nicely done, Detective, the young man is terrified.” A sharp faced woman said from behind the guy in a suit, brandishing a handgun.   
“What, I ain't laid a finger on him.” The guy in a fancy suit said over his shoulder, still holding the gun in Josh's face.   
“No, but your finger hasn't moved off the gun's trigger either.” the woman pointed out, gesturing.   
Grumbling, the man holstered his handgun, eying the woman ominously.   
“What's your name?” the man demanded, turning back to Josh.  
“Josh,” the young man stammered, still tense.   
“You drive a red, Ford LTD?”   
Josh nodded, confused and feeling like he might either wet his pants or lose his supper.   
“This Neanderthal is Detective Ray Vecchio and I'm Inspector Thatcher, RCMP. We have reason to believe you were involved in a hit-and-run, driving a stolen vehicle.” The woman explained calmly but with an air of authority.   
“RCMP??” Josh asked, knitting his brow, unfamiliar with the term.  
“Royal Canadian Mounted Police. One of my officers witnessed the hit-and-run. He pursued you.” She continued.   
“The guy in the red uniform, big hat?” Josh remembered that day clearly. He'd been driving all night and hadn't seen the Astro van in time.   
“Yeah, chased you onto a roof top, fell and busted a leg, nearly died.” Ray informed him, hands on his snake hips, a glower in his green eyes.  
“I didn't know, I just thought he lost me. Is he okay?” Josh asked, feeling even sicker to his stomach. He'd never wanted anyone to get hurt.   
“It's a little late to be asking, don't you think?” the detective snorted, rolling his eyes.  
“You're under arrest for hit-and-run and auto theft.” Ray pulled his handcuffs from the case at the small of his back and stepped toward the young man.   
“And don't forget evading a police officer.” Thatcher added.   
“Mounties don't count.” Ray said, daring her to argue.  
“An officer of the law is an officer of the law, regardless, Detective.” Thatcher glared up at him, meeting the challenge.   
“Fraser was out of his jurisdiction, doesn't count.” Ray came right back at her.   
That started a bickering session that Josh couldn't quite follow. He stood in the middle of the hotel room utterly confused.   
“Uh, Detective,” Josh began.  
“What!” Ray barked before he thought.  
“Police procedure says you should call for a uniformed unit to transport me to jail.” Josh offered, melting under the intense gaze of the two officers.   
“Yeah, I guess.” Ray pulled out his cell phone and began dialing.  
****   
Meg's Apartment …   
Ben sat on the couch, his leg elevated on the arm. A lamp behind him gave enough light to read by. He'd found a copy of Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee by Dee Brown on Meg's bookshelf and decided to determine what she saw in the book. It wasn't about Inuit culture but the Mountie enjoyed it anyway.   
Somewhere around two in the morning, Ben heard the key in the door and laid the book aside. Meg had returned safely. Relieved, he folded the lap throw he'd pulled from the back of the sofa and waited.   
Dief raised his head when he noticed his human moving. He faintly smelled the alpha female and his human's friend; no big deal. Neither of them brought sweets when his human was around.   
“Well, I believe him.” Meg's voice declared as the door swung open. She threw her keys into her purse and hung it on a nearby kitchen chair.   
“And I say he's hidin' somethin', no one's that clean.” Ray argued, not even looking at Fraser.   
“I disagree,” the Inspector countered, sliding out of her shoes and jacket.   
“Name one.” Ray snorted in derision.  
“Constable Fraser, Constable Turnbull, and myself all have clean records.” Meg walked into the kitchen and pulled a bottled water from the refrigerator.   
“Name an American,” Ray persisted.   
“How did the search go, Ray?” Fraser asked when he and the Inspector came back into the living room. He missed bickering with Ray.   
“We found him, Fraser, gave up.” Ray answered, chest swelling.   
“Only because he thought you were going to shoot him.” Meg added with a raised brow.   
“Better I shoot him than you talk him to death.” Ray turned around, glaring at the woman.   
Meg didn't back down or move a centimeter. Instead she glared back at him, her lips pursed as she contemplated verbally shredding the detective.   
“Benny, you taken your meds?” Ray turned to his friend.   
Ben's eyes danced with amusement but he stifled a smile. Ray sensed danger and foiled the Inspector. She couldn't argue with him if he was asking about her Mountie.   
“Yes, Ray, I have, precisely at eight PM.” Ben answered informationally.   
“It's late, I still have to report to work tomorrow.” Meg stated.   
“Yeah, okay. Come down to the station tomorrow and sign the paperwork.” Ray reminded the Inspector as he opened the door to let himself out.   
“You mean later today, Detective.” Meg corrected him – for spite.   
“Yeah, whatever.” Ray muttered as he shook his head before closing the door.   
Meg turned to Fraser, who'd sat watching the whole exchange in amusement. He didn't sense any malice between his friend and his boss, thankfully. He didn't relish being monkey in the middle of them.   
“It's time for bed, Benton. Do you need any assistance?” Meg asked, her tone softening.   
“Would you be so kind as to turn on the light for me, it's difficult with these infernal crutches.”   
“Gladly.” Margaret smiled at him as she walked toward the hall leading to the bedrooms. She flipped on the switch to her spare bedroom and stepped aside for Benton to step through.   
Ben stopped in front of her, inches barely separating them. He gazed into the depths of her brown eyes. She smelled wonderful and he noticed how her eyes seemed droopy.   
“Blast this broken leg, I could take her to bed this minute.” He thought silently.   
“What?” Meg said, looking up at him, an innocent expression on her face.   
“You are exquisite.” He softly said, his finger touching her cheek. Meg only smiled and shrugged.   
“Did I make you uncomfortable?” Ben asked when he saw her cheeks pinken.   
“No, it's just that you've never complimented me so openly before. There's no bomb, no speeding train or semaphore.” She shrugged again, this time meeting his eye.   
“I've wanted to.” Ben admitted.   
“Oh?” Meg prompted, her expression coy as she leaned against the bedroom door. Without her heels she had to look up at Benton.   
“Your hair, your eyes, the way you smell so good, those lips,” He ran his thumb across her bottom lip a moment before leaning down and placing a soft kiss there.   
Meg let out a contented sigh after he pulled away, her eyes closed. Ben studied her for a minute, memorizing her. He'd rarely seen her happy and relaxed. Without asking, he knew their hearts once again beat the same – runaways.   
“Kiss me again, please.” Meg whispered, eyes still closed.   
Ben quietly chuckled as he leaned in for another kiss. This time Meg's arms slid up around his neck. She let him lead the way, ceding her mouth to his exploration. Halfway through she sighed again.   
“I take it you're pleased then.” Ben said as he leaned his forehead against hers.   
“Yes, very pleased.” Meg finally opened her eyes. Timidly, she stroked the sunburnt half of his face. Most of the dead skin had peeled away, leaving soft, new skin. She felt a bit of stubble along his jawbone. For a moment she wondered what Ben would look like with a neatly trimmed beard.   
“We should get to bed, it's quite late.” Ben whispered, rocking slightly on his crutches.   
“My bed is bigger.” Meg offered with a teasing grin.   
“Mmm, yes, that would be more comfortable, wouldn't it.” Ben grinned back at her.   
With a little maneuvering, Ben and Meg made it to her bed. He threw back the covers as she changed in the walk in closet. She stepped out wearing a spaghetti strapped top and loose, red pajama pants. To Ben, she couldn't have looked better if she wore a silk negligee.   
Meg switched off the light and slipped into bed beside Ben, laying on her side facing him.   
“Sleep well, Ben.” she said as she laid her hand on his chest.   
“You too, Meg.” he said with a kiss to her palm.   
“I love you,” she mouthed in the darkness.   
****   
Yeah, pretty much a useless, mushy scene. I couldn't help myself. ~


	7. Chapter 7

The Next Day …   
Ben woke up first despite having been up half the night before waiting on Margaret and Ray. Diefenbaker slept soundly in the corner of the bedroom, snoring. It took Ben a moment to realize that the warm body butted up against his wasn't the comfort seeking wolf-dog.   
Meg  
He smiled at the thought of her nestled against him, her hair tickling his shoulder. She'd pulled the sheet up over her ear, cocooning herself in linens. Looking at her so peaceful and relaxed, Ben noticed how young and small she seemed. The tongue that castigated him so sharply had spoken softly and kissed him sweetly the night before. Her arms had slipped around him, pulling them closer than any time other than on the train. He couldn't help it, a sigh escaped.   
One deeply brown eye peeped up at him and blinked sleepily. The other eye followed a second later.   
“Good morning, Margaret.” Ben whispered, not wanting to break the cozy silence between them.  
“Benton, morning.” She gave him a lazy half smile as she looked at him openly. Ben reached out and caressed her cheek tenderly. They enjoyed the private moment for a while, until Diefenbaker finally roused and needed to head outdoors.   
“What do you want for breakfast, there's cold cereal and scrambled eggs, I'm not much of a breakfast person.” Meg offered, sliding from beneath the bedclothes.   
Ben felt his face flush at the sight of her pajamas again. He wanted to slide those spaghetti straps off her shoulders and untie the white, satin drawstring on her lounge pants.   
“Cook's choice, whatever you want.” He answered, trying to think of the Yukon River in December or walking barefoot on an ice floe to chill his flaming libido.   
“Okay,” Meg shrugged, not helping Ben's urge to tug on the hem of her loose shirt. He watched her walk away longingly.   
“Blasted cast.” The laid up Mountie lamented under his breath.   
****   
Meg smiled to herself as she let Diefenbaker out the front door. She'd seen the way Ben looked at her when she woke up and especially the hungry way he watched her when she climbed out of bed. He wanted her in the worst way and for once he'd let his feelings, no, desires, show.   
“As soon as that cast is gone I'll take care of his desires.” Meg thought to herself with a devilish grin.   
“Yo ho ho,” Ray Vecchio's voice called out as he knocked on the apartment door.   
“Drat,” Meg growled. She had wanted to enjoy her morning with Benton a while longer.   
“Come in, Detective,” She opened the door a moment before disappearing back into the bedroom for a robe.   
“Mornin', I brought pastry.” Ray held up a large, brown bag of freshly baked pastries from his favorite place.   
“Good morning, Ray, you're up early today.” Ben said as he passed Meg in the hall.   
“Yeah, I thought you'd like to talk to the guy who left you for buzzard bait this morning.” Ray shrugged, sitting the pastry bag on the kitchen table.   
“Yes, I would, thank you kindly.” Ben made his way to the coffee maker and started a fresh pot. Meg smelled it as she walked back into the living room, this time completely covered in a black, silk robe. She also heard her tea pot warming up for Ben's herbal tea. Meg walked between Ben at the stove and Ray at the kitchen table to fetch some paper plates and napkins for the pastries.   
“At least I don't have to cook now.” Meg mused, appreciating the thought.   
“You comin' along for the show, Inspector?” Ray asked as he settled at the table.   
“Yes, I'd like to hear the young man's statement as well.” Meg answered, slipping into 'Inspector Mode'.   
The next half hour Meg and Ben spent getting ready to leave. Ray helped Ben with his crutches and the wheelchair, just in case. Ben gave the latter an openly disdainful glare as Ray pushed it toward the elevator. That didn't keep Dief from whining for a ride in it.   
“I'll ride with Ray, if you don't mind, Margaret.” Ben said as they exited the elevator.   
“Alright, I suppose you need some male bonding time without me.” She teased gently.   
“That and the Riviera has more leg room than your economy car.” Ben answered playfully. Meg shook her head and walked to her Toyota Camry while Ray, Ben and Diefenbaker loaded into the Riv.   
****   
The Twenty-seventh Precinct Station …  
Everyone cleared a path for Ben to navigate the hall toward Ray's desk. They all gave him sympathetic greetings. Dief used the slow march as time to beg treats from charitable humans.   
“Sheesh, Fraser, he'd sell you by the pound for a donut.” Ray snickered as they arrived at his desk.   
“Of that I have no doubt.” Ben agreed, giving the wolf-dog a baleful glance. Dief looked up at him and seemed to shrug.   
“Hello, Fraser, how are you feeling?” Elaine walked up to the trio, a sheaf of copies for the detective.   
“I'm fine, thank you kindly for asking, Elaine.” Ben answered, settling himself in a chair across from Ray. He noticed the way Margaret eyed the Civilian Aide distrustfully. Ben caught Margaret's eye and smiled, reassuring her that he only had eyes for her.   
“Ray, these are for you and Lieutenant Welsh wants an update on the hit-and-run case, apparently the suspect's mother called him at home last night.” Elaine handed him the usual set of new missing person's fliers and requested information.   
“Okay, I'll do that.” Ray nodded, tossing the fliers into his in-box before picking up the telephone. Ben and Meg listened quietly as the detective called Cook County Jail and set up a meeting with Josh and his lawyer for later that morning.   
Cook County Jail …   
Joshua shuffled into the interview room with a guard shadowing him. The two cops from the night before stood waiting for him, as did a man holding crutches.   
“Hello,” Josh greeted inclusively, taking a seat across the table from the trio.   
“Mr. Reitman, good morning, I believe you've met Detective Vecchio and Inspector Thatcher, I'm Constable Benton Fraser, of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.”   
Josh took it all in, waiting for the man on crutches to come to a point. His associates made Josh wonder. They seemed an odd pair. The large white dog sitting between them didn't help their image either.   
“Look, I don't mean to be rude, but my mom, …” he paused, looking sheepish, “I don't want to talk to the police without my lawyer.”   
“I understand your hesitancy, representation is your Constitutional right. However, your mother spoke with Lef-tenant Welsh last night. She believes you witnessed a fatal hit-and-run perpetrated by the mayor of your hometown. She's very concerned for your safety, especially in police custody.” Fraser related, studying the younger man's reaction closely. At the mention of his mother, Josh's expression saddened.   
“Look, I know what I did was wrong, running and hitting that woman in the van. I'm no better than the mayor really, but I panicked when I saw that he'd killed that old lady. He'd seen me, he knows who I am. The mayor and the police chief and sheriff are all old buddies from high school. They cover for each other.” The young man shrugged, his dark eyes pleading for the three strangers to believe him.  
“When ya were runnin' from the Mountie here, you led him across a roof top. He fell in and nearly died, got that busted leg to show for it. Why didn't ya stop and check on him?” Ray stormed the table, leaning in to make his point.   
“I didn't know he fell, that dog was on my heels,” he pointed to Diefenbaker, who seemed to frown at being called just a dog. “I ran for another four miles before I lost it.” Josh continued.   
“He's half Arctic wolf.” Fraser clarified on Diefenbaker's behalf.   
“I'm sorry, I didn't know what to do so I ran. I stole my boss' car and ran after I called 9-1-1 for the old lady.” Josh started to run his hand through his dark hair but came up short in the handcuffs.  
“Are you claiming that there is corruption amongst the leaders of your hometown? That the mayor hit and killed an elderly lady without checking on her?” Fraser asked steadily.  
“Yeah, I am.” Josh again looked around the room at the unusual trio.   
“Okay, kid, if you're telling the truth we'll help ya, if not, you're gonna rot in a cell.” Ray stepped forward again, this time his demeanor less hostile.   
“Thanks, Detective.” Josh sat back, visibly relieved.   
“Oh, yeah, your mom is coming in sometime today, she should be at the bail hearing.” Ray said as he helped Fraser with his crutches.   
“She's very worried about you, Mr. Reitman.” Inspector Thatcher said as she left the interview room.   
****


	8. Chapter 8

On the Way Home …   
Meg settled into the backseat of the Riv beside Dief while Ben and Ray got situated in the front. She couldn't stop seeing Josh Reitman's expression when Ray mentioned his mother. Could someone who loved his mother that much be lying?   
“So, what's the verdict? Is the kid tellin' the truth or what?” Ray asked in general as he pulled out of the jail's parking lot.   
“He's telling the truth.” Ben and Meg answered in unison.   
“Yeah, I agree. The kid's boss also called Welsh last night. Seems the kid left a note in his Chevette before he stole the boss' car. Said he was sorry, that he could have his car in return. They guy said he really only reported the car stolen 'cause the cops wouldn't fill out a missing persons report for his mother.” Ray shrugged.   
“Well, there is more than one way to skin a cat, as my father would say.” Fraser added thoughtfully.   
“Yuck, why would you want to skin a cat?” Ray asked, shivering.   
“It's a metaphor, Ray. It means there are various ways to accomplish the same goal.” Fraser explained patiently. If he hadn't joined the RCMP, Fraser would have made an excellent teacher of college professor.   
“The question now is, what do we do with this information?” Inspector Thatcher asked from the back seat.   
“That is a good one, Inspector. Wisconsin is a little out of my jurisdiction and a whole hell a lot outta yours.” Ray commented.   
“There's been a murder, an injustice, we have to help.” Fraser declared resolutely.   
“Perhaps we should contact the FBI?” Inspector suggested, turning the matter over in her mind. She didn't like thinking an elderly lady had been mown down and the culprit free to do it again. Still, Meg didn't want to get any more involved than necessary.   
“Yeah, and let some goombah like Agent Ford handle it?” Ray shot her down.   
“Quite right,” Meg conceded. Diefenbaker barked in agreement.   
“Anyway, Welsh wants us to meet with the mother. You two comin'?” Ray changed the subject. In the back of his mind he knew he'd end up going to Wisconsin before the case finished.   
****   
The Twenty-seventh …   
Mrs. Reitman sat in Lieutenant Welsh's office waiting on Detective Vecchio. Like her son, she had brown eyes, dark, curling hair and a slim figure. She clutched her purse strap nervously as she waited for the meeting to begin.  
“Ms. Reitman, this is Inspector Thatcher, Constable Fraser and Detective Vecchio. Constable Fraser witnessed the hit-and-run.” Welsh began, smoothing his blue and red striped tie over his paunch. “Hello,” Mrs. Reitman greeted them with a tight smile.   
“Has Joshua spoken of his reasons for leaving home, Mrs. Reitman?” Ben asked, his voice cordial.   
“Yes, he called me on his way to Chicago. He told me about the Mayor hitting poor Ms. Jackson and leaving her to die like that.” The lady shook her head sadly.   
“You knew the victim?” Ben shifted in his chair, his leg aching from overuse. He'd refused to allow Ray to wheel him into the station like an invalid.   
“Yes, Martha Jackson was a sweet woman, she worked at the deli. She must have been on her way home from work that night.” Mrs. Reitman sighed.   
“Joshua said that the mayor, sheriff and police chief are all close friends, are they close enough to cover up a murder?” Inspector Thatcher asked, leveling a compelling gaze at the woman.   
“Yes. I was in school a few years behind them. They all chose to fail the eighth grade so they could play football a year longer. Those three have owned our town since they were teenagers.” She didn't try to hide her resentment.   
“Why hasn't anyone reported 'em before now?” Ray chimed in, eager to be included.  
“It's a very small, rural town. They do favors for each other, divert some money but basically, no one's been hurt, until now. Besides, who would believe us against them?” Mrs. Reitman shrugged tiredly.   
***   
By the time Ray, the Inspector and Fraser had spoken with Joshua, his lawyer and mother, Ben's leg ached from activity. He walked toward Ray's desk, his breathing heavy. Meg noticed the tension in his face first.   
“I guess this is the part where we let Elaine dig around on these guys.” Ray began, taking a seat at his piled up desk.   
“Yes, that would be a good idea, Detective. Fraser and I will pursue other avenues.” Meg stated, hoping to help Ben save face in front of his friend and unofficial partner. She didn't like the way Ben looked so pale.   
“And what 'other avenues' would that be, Inspector?” Ray turned his attention away from his in-box to the female Mountie still standing.   
“I'm not without my own initiative, Detective, there's no need to second guess me.” Meg answered steadily, one hundred percent bluffing.   
“Yeah, okay,” Ray gave a skeptical eye roll, “So, Fraser, you goin' with the Inspector or stayin' with me?”   
Meg watched Ben look from Ray to her, his loyalty torn between his boss/girlfriend and his best friend. She gave him a glacial death glare, hoping to sway his decision.  
“Ah, Ray, I believe I'll accompany the Inspector to the consulate. I'm sure Elaine will be ample assistance.”   
“Thank you, Ben.” Meg thought to herself. She didn't really want that doe eyed Civilian Aide  
around anyway.   
Ray begrudgingly let Meg call a cab from his desk phone.   
****   
“Do you want a cup of tea, Ben?” Meg asked as she closed and locked the front door.   
“Yes, thank you kindly.” He dropped onto the sofa with a grunt. Diefenbaker, who'd found his own way from the Twenty-seventh Precinct, curled around his dog bed and laid down.   
“Have you taken your medicine yet today?” Meg shook one of the rusty colored plastic bottles with little pills inside.   
“No,” came the guilty answer.   
“Ben,” Meg chastised with a word. She tossed the pill bottle toward him easily.   
“Margaret, I'd rather not take a pain pill just now, there are still pieces of this investigation that don't fit.” he set the bottle on the end table beside the sofa.   
“Take one, Ben, you're in pain, you've over done it today.” Meg brought out a mug of herbal tea, steam rising off the dark liquid.   
“Margaret,” Ben began again.  
“No, take a pain pill and rest, because I said so.” Meg gave him a glare half a second before her expression softened to one of concern.   
“Someone has to take proper care of you, heavens knows you won't.” She took took his free hand and squeezed.   
“Thank you, Margaret.” Ben squeezed back as he looked up at her steadily, a tired smile on his lips.   
“You're welcome, Benton.”  
A few moments later, covered in a red, lap throw, Ben slept soundly. Meg curled up on the end of the couch with a note book to gather her thoughts about the case.   
****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's been ages, but I'm still working on this one.


	9. Chapter 9

The Land of Milk and Cheese …   
AKA: Wisconsin …   
Without any proof, Ray couldn't take Joshua's case to the FBI if he'd wanted to. It was the young man's word against the mayor and his cronies. Ray hated to admit it, but they'd have to take the case on the road. He hoped that Fraser could work his magic despite being temporarily handicapped.   
Not if he could just ditch the Inspector. And maybe the wolf.   
“Lieutenant Welsh, may I have a moment?” Ray asked with uncharacteristic manners. He wanted Welsh's blessing to leave, hopefully with pay.   
“Yeah, Vecchio, what is it?” Welsh laid aside his reading glasses and leaned back in his desk chair.   
“I'd like leave to go to Wisconsin, Sir.” Ray laid it out plainly.   
“Oh?” Welsh said with a raised eyebrow. Working with the Mountie, he'd heard the detective ask for some strange things.   
“Yes, Sir, it's the hit-and-run case. You see, the suspect, Joshua Reitman, claims to be a witness to another hit-and-run, this one involving his hometown's mayor and an an old lady. It seems that …”   
“This involves the Mountie, right?” Welsh interjected, sitting up straight.   
“Ah, yes, Sir, it does.” Ray nodded.  
“Go, and leave me OUT of the loop. You understand?” Welsh pointed one stubby finger at the detective.   
“Yes, Sir, understood.” Ray flashed a quick grin before turning to leave.   
***   
Dinner …  
“Ray, you can't go alone.” Ben stated as he looked his best friend and unofficial partner in the eye.  
“You won't have back-up without us, Detective.” Meg added quickly. Despite her dislike of Vecchio, he'd always backed-up Benton. For him, Meg would do, or tolerate, anything – even Vecchio.   
“Oh yeah, 'cause Mounties have more jurisdiction in Wisconsin.” Ray quipped. He shoved away a plate of roasted chicken breast and steamed veggies.   
“Of course not, Ray. The RCMP only has jurisdiction in Canada.” Fraser expounded.  
“We're going, Detective.” Meg stated. For a long moment, Ray and Meg glared at each other. Ben wondered who would flinch first.  
The doorbell chimed, breaking the tension. Meg opened the door, surprised to see Mrs. Reitman on the other side.  
“Inspector Thatcher?” the woman asked uncertainly.   
“Yes, come in.” Meg stepped back to allow the woman inside.  
“Mrs. Reitman, what's wrong?” Ben took one look at her pinched face and wringing hands.  
“One of my neighbors called, my house burnt down last night. My dog, Lucky, died.”   
“I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Reitman. Please, have a seat.” Ben let his casted leg down to offer her a kitchen chair.  
“Thank you. I didn't mean to barge in, but I didn't know what else to do.” She sat slumped in the straight back chair.  
“Sounds like a warning.” Ray intoned ominously, his fist clenched tightly around his fork.  
“Why, Ray?” Ben pondered aloud.  
“Someone knows I came here to help Josh. They want me and him to stay quiet about the hit-and-run.” Mrs. Reitman wrung her hands harder, turning them red.  
“They took a big chance, someone else coulda gotten hurt of killed.” Ray shook his head in disgust.  
“We will get to the bottom of this, Mrs. Reitman.” Meg assured the worried woman.  
The three investigators talked with Mrs. Reitman for a while, asking about who she'd told her plans to, if she'd received any strange calls since Joshua ran, etc,.   
Ray graciously offered to let her stay in the Vecchio's guest room. Tony, Maria and the kids had gone to Florida to visit relatives, leaving the house quiet.   
Around eight, Ray and Mrs. Reitman left for the evening. Meg felt glad to see them go. She wanted an evening alone with Ben.  
“What do you want to do?? Meg asked casually. She curled up at the end of the couch next to where Ben sat in the recliner. He looked up at her from an old National Geographic magazine, an innocent, puzzled, look on his face.   
“Do what, Margaret?” he swallowed hard before asking.  
“To pass the time. It's early yet. We could play cards or watch a movie – anything.” She purred the last word. Did he not know she wanted him, after they'd been sharing a bed for days?  
“Anything?” he repeated, swiping at his eyebrow with that thumbnail.  
Meg knew she'd pushed too hard. Ben didn't respond well to overt flirting and sexuality. She'd seen him blush and ramble when met with female advances.  
“No wonder he hurts himself every time I enter his office.” Meg mused silently, “He never knows what he'll encounter.”  
“Maybe you'd like to rest. Vecchio will be here early in the morning.” She backed off, giving Ben a way out if he chose.   
“Yes, rest would be good.” Ben almost sagged in relief. Part of Meg felt disappointed. She'd had high hopes.  
Meg turned down the bed for Ben and made sure he elevated his leg.  
“I'll take Diefenbaker for a walk, it's early yet.” Meg felt his frown more than saw it as he watched her leave.  
Meg grabbed the least and opened the front door. The wolf-dog trotted out happily. At least someone's hopes had been fulfilled. Sighing, she followed.  
***   
Meg walked down the sidewalk, holding the leas as a formality. Most people in the neighborhood had already met Dief.   
“What am I doing?” she asked herself. She remembered how easily they'd talked during the rescue and at the hospital. “What happened?” she wondered.   
Dief stopped at a bus stop, waiting for Meg to catch up.  
“What, I have a shorter stride than Fraser.” she groused. The wolf turned his head away, unimpressed.  
“I have things on my mind.” she argued. When she realized she'd just talked aloud to a deaf wolf, Meg fumed at herself.   
“Come on, let's go home.” she grumbled.  
“What's wrong with wanting to go farther? It's not like hes never had sex. I've read the Metcalf File, they didn't spend three days in that apartment playing canasta.”   
Dief growled menacingly in his throat at the mention of Victoria Metcalf. Meg didn't blame him.   
“I'm not trying to take anything from Ben. We both have a lot to lose; our careers, his friends. This isn't something I do lightly.” The more Meg talked, the sadder she felt. By the time she unlocked the apartment door she felt like giving up.  
“Margaret?” Ben called from the bedroom.   
“Yes, Ben. Dief and I are back.” Meg pulled herself together before walking back through the apartment.  
When she walked into the bedroom she saw Ben leaning against the headboard, reading Cyrano De Bergerac. He looked up at her, a quick smile flitting across his face.  
“Did you have a good walk?” Ben asked, adjusting his bookmark.  
“A thrill a second.” Meg answered sarcastically. She picked out her pajamas and stalked off toward the bathroom. A few minutes later she crawled into bed beside Ben and pulled the covers over herself. She lay with her back to him.   
“Are you certain everything is alright?” Ben asked as Meg switched off the lights.  
“Fine, Ben, fine.” Her voice came out stern.   
“Understood.”  
Silence fell between them for a time – until Ben spoke again.  
“All you have to do is ask, Margaret.”   
She could almost see him run his thumbnail over his eyebrow.  
“Benton,” Meg began.  
“Otherwise I may not know what you want.”  
Meg sighed, turning over to her back.  
“As you know, my relationship experience is somewhat, well, actually …”   
“Benton,” she interrupted.  
“Yes, Margaret.”   
“Shut up and kiss me, please.” Meg turned on over to face him.  
“Gladly, Margaret.” They met halfway, kissing tentatively in the dark.   
“Thank you, Ben.” she said softly.   
“You're most welcome.” he answered.  
“Ben,”  
“Hmmm?”   
“I feel silly asking,” Meg pulled away a bit.  
“You have but to ask.” Ben reminded her gently.  
“Make love to me.” She spoke barely above a whisper.  
“Gladly,” Ben pulled her closer, nuzzling her neck.   
*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It just didn't feel right to make the sex scene any more graphic. Sorry.


	10. Chapter 10

Away We Go …   
Ray pulled up and honked the horn precisely at five-oh-five am. Meg came down the front stoop smirking while Ben whistled. Dief walked slowly toward the Riv, tail hanging.  
“Hey, Benny, Inspector,” Ray waved as he leaned on the front fender, coffee in hand.  
“It's a fine morning, Ray. How are you?” Ben clapped his friend on the shoulder.  
“How are you this happy this early?” Ray shook his head.  
“Let's go, Detective. It's a long drive.” Meg interrupted just as Ben opened his mouth.  
“Yeah, so it is.” Ray hefted himself off the fender.   
Duffel bags stowed, the investigators set off.  
****   
From Chicago to Williamsport lay almost one hundred miles. Thankfully, Ma Vecchio had packed a picnic basket while Ray brought a cooler of various drinks – mostly bottled water.  
We'll be out on the open road by sunrise. Care to spell me later, Inspector?” Ray asked as he headed north-west out of the city.  
“Yes, of course, Detective.” Meg answered like a distracted student.  
“What's so difficult, it's a yes or no question.” Ray pondered.   
He drove a few more miles in near silence, Dief snoring rhythmically. Out of the corner of his eye, Ray saw Ben jerk to his right and a fleeting grin cross his features. Five minutes later Ben jerked again and Ray heard a stifled snicker from the backseat.  
“Alright, what's goin' on back there?” Ray demanded.  
“Nothing,” Ben and Meg said in unison.  
“No way is 'nothing' goin' on. Tell me or I'll pull this car over right now.” Ray laid on the breaks and began edging toward the shoulder.  
“It's nothing, Ray.” Ben insisted as he scratched his eyebrow.  
“Benny, you're a horrible liar, and lying to your best friend of all people.” Ray put the Riv in park. He stared at Fraser for a long moment.   
Meg felt a turning point going on between them. She couldn't let their relationship change – Ben's and Ray's friendship.  
“We are officially a couple.” Meg stated flatly.  
Both men turned to stare gape-mouthed at her. There – she'd said it.  
“What? It's the truth.” she said defensively.  
“A couple, you mean as in boyfriend and girlfriend, dating, kissing and hugging?”   
“Yes, Detective, that's generally what couples do.” Meg replied dryly, brow arched.  
Ray leaned his head against the steering wheel.   
“Ray …” Ben began. Meg laid a supportive hand on his shoulder.  
“I'm okay. It's okay.” Ray sat up again, “Sheesh, Fraser, took you long enough.”  
“I wasn't aware it was a timed event.” Ben remarked – deadpan. The detective chuckled.  
“Not timed, but definitely overdue.” Ray shook his head as he prepared to pull back into the flow of traffic.  
****   
Outside Chicago Ray needed a navigator.   
“Hey, Fraser, dig that map outta the glove compartment, will ya?” A few minutes later the Mountie pulled a ratty wad of paper from the bottom of the compartment.   
“Hmm, is that blood?” Ray, Meg and Dief averted their eyes as he touched the stained paper to his tongue.  
“Ugg, I can't believe I kiss him knowing he does that.” Meg thought.   
“Oh, no, Francesca's fingernail polish, 'Deep Desire' I believe.” Ben began straightening the balled mess. Two seconds later he'd folded it neatly.  
“Here you are, Ray, though I believe it's dreadfully out of date – 1957. There's been considerable highway construction since then. Perhaps we should …”  
“Yeah, yeah, get a new map. Anyway, that one'll at least point us in the right direction.” Ray interrupted – as usual.  
“It would be more efficient with a current map, Detective.” Meg interjected authoritatively.  
“Do you see one, Inspector?” Ray argued.  
“No,”   
“Well, we'll have to do it my way.”  
“We'll be lost within the hour.” Meg muttered, sitting back against the seat.  
Sure enough, Ray pulled the Riv over at a rundown Chevron station. He grumbled all the way inside. Dief followed, needing a bush break.   
“Are you alright, Margaret?” Ben twisted in his seat to talk to her. She gave him a pleased smile.  
“I'm fine. I was wondering how you were.” She scooted forward to touch his cheek. A moment later they heard kissy noises from outside.  
“C'mon, get a room already.” Ray climbed in and tossed a new map at Fraser's head.   
“Must you be so crass, Detective?” Meg shot back, glaring at Ray.  
“I'm not doing anything to you I wouldn't do to my own sisters, ask Fraser.” Ray fired the car up a moment after letting Dief inside.   
“Ray, please don't antagonize Margaret.” Ben said flatly.  
Ray caught an edge to his voice he'd rarely heard.  
“Alright, Fraser.”  
****   
Williamsport lay another forty-five minutes ahead. For the investigators it seemed like an eternity. Dief slept through it.  
At the edge of town they pulled into a locally owned hotel. Meg had called and reserved two rooms the day before. Like most small hotels, this one; The Badger Inn, lay in a straight line broken by doors and windows. Meg went inside to register and collect the room keys while Ray helped Ben. Dief trotted around sniffing things randomly. By the time she'd finished, the fellas had carried their luggage to the doors outside the reserved rooms.  
“So, who's bunkin' with who?” Ray asked, hands on his hips.   
“You and Ben should share a room.” Meg volunteered quickly. Both men looked at her in confusion.  
“I don't want to get up in the middle of the night to let the wolf out.” Meg explained lamely.   
“Maybe they'll talk.” she thought.  
Diefenbaker sniffed in disgust.  
“Yeah, sure, I'll let him out.” Ray shrugged. Meg handed him the key to room on101, the last room on the right. She claimed 102 all for herself.  
Half an hour later everyone met in the guys' room for a strategy meeting. Ben sat on the bed, his let up as he thumbed through the phone book when Meg walked in. Ray sat at the small table sorting through the picnic basket.  
“Hello, Meg,” Ben looked up, grinning at her.   
“Ben,” she smiled back, her heart fluttering. He was all hers.  
“What am I, chopped liver?” Ray groused, waving a salami and cheese sandwich.  
“Ray, don't be silly.” Ben frowned.  
“What is our first step?” Meg said as she sat down beside Ben.  
“We visit the original crime scene.” Ben spoke first. He held his finger in place halfway through the phone book.  
“Alright, now we're getting' somewhere.” Ray rubbed his hands together in anticipation. A few minutes later they were on the road again. The clock read eight am.  
Just as Joshua described, a bus stop sat at a four-way stop. Flowers and a wreath marked Mrs Jackson's death scene.   
“It's been more than a month, what do you expect to find, Fraser?” Meg queried from the back seat as they pulled into a nearby parking lot.   
“Very little, tire tracks perhaps.” He frowned as he maneuvered his casted leg out of the car. Meg knew he felt sorely tired of wearing it.  
Dief sniffed around while Ben studied tire tracks and bits of trash along the curb. Meg and Ray watched the proceedings with skepticism; even thought they'd seen Fraser solve two dozen cases the same way.  
“What'd ya find?” Ray asked once he'd slid behind the steering wheel.  
“As expected, very little.” Ben held up a few bits of debris.  
“Okay, now where?” Ray shrugged.  
“Mrs. Reitman's house, please, Ray.” Ben pulled a slip of paper from inside his Stetson – the Reitman's address.  
“Shouldn't we examine the Mayor's vehicle, compare the headlight glass?” Meg leaned forward, between the guys.  
“As you said, it's been over a month. The suspect has repaired the damage by now.” Fraser explained.  
“And the house fire is a fresh scene.” Meg added, her own mind spinning.  
“Precisely.” Ben affirmed.  
****   
Joshua and his mother lived at the end of a private drive two and a half miles from town. Trees dotted open fields along each side. Charred remains of a modest, one story house lay smoldering at the end of the drive. Fire trucks and emergency response vehicles had torn up the shallow yard between the gravel drive and the porch. A porch swing, somehow undamaged, sat on the cement slab near the front entrance. Ben and Dief again began to sniff and sift through the wreckage.   
“You're a Mountie, how does Fraser do it?” Ray caught Meg's arm as the others walked ahead. Meg looked at the detective squarely for a moment, gauging his intentions. She decided he genuinely wanted to know.  
“I wish I knew. I've never met anyone like him.” She answered simply – honestly.   
“Yeah, me either.” Ray agreed quietly. Meg wondered for a minute if the detective resented Fraser's for his accomplishments, for his skills.  
Ray broke the awkwardness by shouting – “You got anything, Fraser?” He ambled up to the spot where the Mountie knelt, examining the hulk of a gas cook stove. Meg watched them for a moment. She envied Ray his friendship with Ben. They'd spent time together she couldn't claim. Suddenly, she felt like a third wheel.   
Dief nudged her hand. Looking down at him, Meg heard the wolf whine.   
“He loves me, doesn't he?” Meg asked, ruffling the wolf's ears. Dief began wagging his tail as if to say yes.  
“I love him too.” Meg smiled.   
“Meg,” Ben called, waving for her to join him and Ray.  
***


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short but it's coming along

Lunch …   
After nosing around Mrs. Reitman's ruined house, everyone needed a break, and an early lunch. Dief seconded that motion whole heartedly.  
Back in town, Ray pulled up to a small diner called The Badger Hole. It's log cabin theme spilled out onto the sidewalk. Warped, wooden picnic tables lined the concrete along the front picture window.   
“Looks good, as long as they don't actually serve badger.” Ray said sarcastically as he pocketed the Riv keys.  
“Ray, I believe the restaurant's name has more to do with Wisconsin's nickname than the meat. Though I've wondered what badger would taste like.” Ben remarked. Meg trailed along behind, closing doors after Fraser.  
“You're quiet, Inspector, nothin' to add?” Ray asked. He'd noticed her preoccupation but couldn't figure out why. He thought she'd seem more thrilled to be Fraser's official lady love. Perhaps trouble in paradise?  
“It's been a long day, Detective, that's all.” she answered.  
The three humans took a table while the wolf waited beneath a picnic table. Ben and Meg sat side-by-side. Gently, she slipped her left hand into his right; just long enough for an 'I love you' squeeze.   
“Are you alright, Margaret?” Ben searched her face in concern. He'd noticed her silence as well.  
“I'm fine. We can talk about it later.” She gave him a quick smile.  
Ben wanted to talk to her right then. He wanted to by-pass lunch and take her back to the hotel room. She satisfied his real hunger.  
“Okay,” He winked at her quickly.  
***   
Dief enjoyed a wolf-size to-go box as Ray drove the Riv and the Canadians to Joshua's work place. The small, independently owned, electronics store sat three blocks from the crime scene and four   
from the court house. Ben easily memorized both Joshua and the Mayor's probable routes that fateful night Mrs Jackson died.  
“Hello, let me know if you need anything.” A jovial man in his late forties greeted the three investigators.  
“Mr. Taylor?” Ray asked, opening his ID.   
“Yeah, that's me. What can I do for you, Detective?” He looked from Ray to Ben and finally to Meg.  
“We're investigating on behalf of Mrs. Reitman.” Ben began, shifting his weight on the crutches. Meg noticed him grit his teeth in frustration.   
“Oh yeah, Josh's mother. How is she? I heard about her house burning.” Mr. Taylor asked, genuinely concerned.  
“She's fine. Listen, we just wan to know what happened the night Joshua Reitman stole your car.” Ray by-passed the pleasantries.  
“Josh didn't steal it, per se, he just didn't ask before he took it. He knows where I kept the spare key. He's not a bad kid, Detective, he just panicked is all.” Taylor gestured freely with his beefy hand as he talked.   
“Mrs. Reitman spoke of a note Joshua left in his car for you.” Meg prompted, cutting Ben off before he could give a morality lesson.  
“Yeah, here it is.” Taylor found a manila envelope under the cash register and handed it to Ray.   
Mr. Taylor, Sorry, I have to leave for a while. You can have my car in place of your LTD. Josh  
Two sentences covered a store receipt in the young man's hasty scrawl. All three investigators read the missive.  
“I really only reported it stolen because the sheriff gave his mom the run around about the missing persons report. Said he was an adult, he'd turn up, that kinda thing. Jerk.” he muttered, shrugging his shoulders.  
“Who'd you report the car stolen to?” Ray asked.  
“The state police, why?” The stocky store owner frowned, wanting an explanation.   
“We'll keep in touch, thank you, Mr. Taylor.” Ben gave Ray an almost imperceptible look.  
“Yeah, any time. Josh is a good worker, a good kid.” Mr. Taylor watched as the strangers left his store.  
****   
“So, the sheriff's probably in on it.” Ray declared as soon as everyone settled into the Riv.  
“Perhaps not, Ray,” Ben began.  
“Yeah, yeah, I know, it's his right to take off, that people disappear every day and nothing bad happens. I'm telling you, Fraser, that guy doesn't trust the sheriff any more than Mrs. Reitman or he'd have reported the car to the Sheriff's Office.” Ray argued, tapping the steering wheel with the palm of his hand.  
“Detective Vecchio has a point, Ben.” Meg chimed in from the backseat.  
Ray looked back at her, hazarding a turn in his seat.  
“Don't be so shocked, Detective.” Meg said frostily.  
“IF the Sheriff is indeed party to a cover-up then we have a much larger problem.” Ben stated, pausing to coat his lower lip with his tongue.  
“Oh?” Ray cruised slowly toward the court house.   
“Whom to report the corruption to and their word against ours.” Meg finished.   
They all sat in silence.  
****   
As predicted, the Mayor's Cadillac had been repaired since the hit-and-run. Ray, having lovingly restored TWO Rivieras, examined the body work.   
“This body work is excellent. The paint is a shade off but not bad.” Ray proclaimed as he knelt beside the front fender. He raised up, wiping his hands off on Fraser's hanky.   
“We need evidence; blood, hair, something.” Meg mused, studying the wheel well,  
“Find the auto body shop, find the evidence.” Fraser added. Dief barked in agreement.  
“The phone directory listed a few such places, perhaps they have the damaged fender.” the Mountie suggested.  
“Okay, let's head back to the hotel, make a few calls. I'd like to check in with Mrs. Reitman.” Ray jingled his keys as he led the way back to the Riviera.  
****


	12. Chapter 12

The Badger Inn ….  
Meg unlocked her hotel room and sauntered in, nudging the door closed. A split second before it hit the jamb she heard a clatter. Turning, she saw the end of Ben's crutch.  
“Margaret,” his voice pulled her back to the door.  
“Come in,” Meg turned on the lamp beside her bed, revealing a plain room of off-white walls and a striped comforter.   
“Are you alright?” she asked, glancing over him.  
“Quite alright,” he stopped there, staring at her with indecision on his face.  
“Spit it out, Benton.” Meg commanded. He blinked twice before speaking.  
“Are you alright, Margaret?” She watched him turn his head to the side, studying her.  
“What does he see when he looks at me?” Meg wondered. She suspected he saw every truth she tried to hide.  
“I'm listening,” Ben said softly as he edged closer to her on the clumsy crutches.   
“Detective Vecchio is your friend.” Meg's words rushed out.  
“Yes, he is.”   
“He'll always be your friend,” she continued. Meg's fingers began wringing the plastic fob attached to her hotel room key.  
“Don't let me, us, come between you.” She finally mustered, pulling the key ring loose from the fob. Ben laid his hand over hers, drawing her closer.  
“Ray and I are fine, there's nothing to fret over.” He stroked her cheek a moment before leaning in for a kiss.  
“Both of us have limited relationship experience I suppose.” Meg smiled as she leaned her forehead against Ben's.  
They talked for a while before deciding to find Ray and Dief and buy diner.  
Outside the Badger Hole sat a slew of local cars. Families and a few older couples crowded the tables and booths.  
“Ah, a slice of Americana,” Ray surveyed the room with satisfaction. He led them up to the order window below the menu board.  
“I'll reserve us a table. Ray, would you order me something, please?” Ben motioned toward a small table in the back corner.  
“Sure,” Ray agreed with a shrug.  
Meg watched Ben pardoned and excused himself between the tables. She wondered how much longer he'd have to wear the cast.   
“You're up, Inspector,” Ray's voice jarred her out of her thoughts. Quickly, she ordered a BLT and coffee.  
“So, what's on the agenda for tomorrow?” Ray asked.  
“I thought perhaps tonight we would observe the M …” Ray began shaking his head. “The, ah, the suspect's residence.” Ben finished.  
“Sheesh, Fraser, don't let the cat outta the bag.” the detective leaned forward, “Who knows who might overhear.”  
“Yes, Ray, I'm sorry.” Ben's 'sorry' rhymed with 'story', his one Canadian accent trait.  
“Do we know where out suspect lives?” Meg wondered, trying to further the conversation.   
“Yeah, Mrs. Reitman told me.” Ray whispered her name.  
“You seem to keep in close touch with, uh, the lady, Detective.” Meg said smugly. In turn he sneered at her but didn't retort. Meg stored the information away for later.  
“We'll have to rent or borrow a car, Ray, yours, while serviceable, is rather too – memorable – for surveillance.” Ben suggested.  
“Good idea, otherwise you might blow it up – again.” That started a ten minute bickering session which Meg found enlightening and amusing.  
After diner the trio headed out of town to find a car rental agency. They rented the cheapest economy car Ray's credit card would cover.  
“Why is it every time we go on one of YOUR cases MY wallet takes a hit?” Ray complained loudly as they walked to the back row of the lot.  
“I would gladly have paid, Ray, but all I have is Canadian currency.” the Mountie explained.  
“Yeah, yeah. Here, drive the Riv.” Ray dangled the keys up for either Meg or Ben to drive.  
“I can't drive, Ray.” Ben stared at him blankly.  
“Let me drive, Fraser,” Meg snatched the keys from Ray. They dropped the Riviera off at the hotel before driving to the Mayor's house.  
****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and more on the way.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still working on it ...

The Mayor wore broken down slippers and a ratty bathrobe to take out the trash. A single security light in his backyard gave the investigators plenty of light to see by.  
“Pass the popcorn, eh,” Ray spoke without looking away from the two story brick house.  
“You're welcome, Detective,” Meg said dryly as she handed the large bag over Ben's shoulder.  
Ray rolled his eyes before he spoke again. “I don't see why we're watchin' this guy, what does it prove?” He gestured with one hand full of popcorn while offering Ben some with the other.  
“It proves nothing – yet.” Fraser wagged his index finger at his friend.  
“That's quite a few alcohol bottles and boxes for a single man.” Meg observed, ignoring Ray and Fraser's chatter.  
“So, maybe he had a party 'er something.” Ray argued.  
“Unlikely,” Meg and Fraser said in unison. Fraser turned to her and flashed a grin.  
“So, you think the guy's a lush?” Ray looked from one to the other. Both Mounties nodded.  
All three humans watched the Mayor's house while Dief slept. A pizza delivery car drove up about ten. At one AM, the Mayor turned off a black and white movie before going to bed.  
“Alright, time to go.” Ray announced, pulling at his seatbelt.  
“Wait, Ray, there may be evidence to collect.” Ben swung his door open and struggled to get out of the economy car. His casted foot caught between the door and the frame, causing the usually graceful Mountie to fall hard on his side.  
“Oh dear,” Meg uttered as she scrambled out of the backseat. She watched his jaw work and his lips purse.  
“Are you alright?” Ray hollered through the open passenger door.  
“Yes, Ray, aside from my foot and the contusions I'll have tomorrow, I'm quite alright.” Meg stifled a laugh at Ben's subtle sarcasm. Together, she and Ben righted him.  
Thank you kindly, Margaret,” Ben nodded, his lips quirking at the corners.  
“Come on, come on, pay attention.” Ray groused, disturbing the Mounties.  
“Ah, yes, the case.” Meg pulled away from Ben, refocusing.  
Ray and the Mounties poked through the Mayor's garbage, Dief nosing around too. Meg couldn't help herself, she stole a look at Ben, just to check on him. She knew he hated to appear weak or in need.  
“He's stronger than he'll ever know.” Meg thought to herself. How he'd survived those four days lying on his back she'd never know.  
“Ah ha!” Fraser's voice interrupted her thoughts.  
“What 'Ah ha'?” Ray straightened up from looking over a cardboard box of half gallon jugs.  
“Ah ha, a work order.” Fraser held up a crumpled piece of paper.  
“Finally, a break.” Ray chuckled.  
After snooping a bit more they decided to call it a night. Ray helped Fraser with the crutches as Thatcher opened their hotel room doors.  
“Hey, Benny,” Ray said quietly.  
“Yes, Ray?” The Mountie looked at him expectantly, his blue eyes barely visible in the security lights' glow.  
“You bunk with Thatcher, me an' Dief'll make a night of it.” Ray offered sincerely. Ben felt honored. Maybe Ray and Meg could come to an accord – maybe. Ben knew they both cared about him, despite whatever their issues with each other.  
“Margaret suggested we talk, we haven't spoken much today, especially about recent changes between Margaret and myself.” Ben shifted his weight between his good leg and the opposite crutch.  
“Hey, whatever makes you happy, tickles me pink.” Ray shrugged a moment before giving Fraser a hearty pat on the shoulder.  
“Thank you kindly, Ray, I'm glad.” Ben smiled broadly, relieved.  
“Go on, take the Dragon Lady,” Ray teased.  
*****  
“You were supposed to stay with Ray tonight.” Meg frowned as she stood aside for Ben to enter her room.  
“Should I leave?” Ben began to turn himself around.  
“Get back here, Benton Fraser,” She put a restraining hand on his shoulder.  
“Yes, Ma'am.” He couldn't suppress a grin as she leaned in for a kiss.  
“You are incorrigible,” She smiled before deepening the kiss.  
They slept well the rest of the night, Meg's head on Ben's shoulder. He'd ached to feel someone warm and real in his bed for years. Sure, there'd been offers but Ben chose to wait for love. Victoria had been a grand illusion of forever; self-serving all along. Ben knew Meg to be trustworthy. They'd worked together, had formed a working relationship – of sorts.  
Ben pulled Meg a little closer, thankful for her love. He drifted off to sleep moments later.  
*****  
The next morning, after breakfast, the investigators tracked down the body shop from the receipt in Mayor Beady's garbage.  
“Here we are, Chowder's Collision Center,” Ray drove the Riv to a spot along the front of the gray metal building. Cars and trucks in various states of disrepair sat in a large, cement lot beyond the garage.  
“Think they'll believe this baby needs work?” Ray asked, caressing the dash of the Buick Riviera lovingly.  
“Of course not, Ray, we're here about the Mayor's Cadillac.” Fraser clarified dryly.  
“You mean to speak to the owner about this car as a distraction for Fraser and I to look around.” Ray wasn't sure if she made a statement, an order or a question.  
“Uh, yea, sure,” he shrugged.  
Dief bounded out of the back seat, happy to sniff new places and hike his leg to mark new territory.  
Ray sauntered up to a man wearing gray coveralls, a ball cap and a name tag: Omer.  
“Hey, you the owner?” Ray shouted to be heard over another worker using a pneumatic drill.  
“Yeah,” the fifty-something man looked Ray over suspiciously.  
“A friend of a friend had his car re-done here, recommended you,” Ray saw Fraser standing in front of a grubby desk in the corner while Thatcher nosed around in a battered, metal filing cabinet beside it. Ray kept talking, asking questions, until he saw Thatcher nod in signal.  
“Yeah, thanks, Omer, I'll keep you in mind.” Ray shook the man's hand.  
Fraser and Thatcher sat in the Riv when Ray returned. Dief sat beside the car, spending every minute possible outside while he could.  
“Get it?” Ray asked after closing the car door.  
“Yes, Ray, we found a copy of the work order. Mayor Beady paid for the repairs in case.” Fraser pulled a pink carbon copy from his breast pocket and handed it to Ray.  
“Great, now who do we turn this in to?” the detective asked rhetorically.  
“Hmm, good question.” Fraser frowned.  
****  
Later …  
The Restaurant …  
Ray picked at his crinkle cut french fries while Fraser and Thatcher ate their chicken dinners dutifully. They'd discussed to whom to turn the case over to only to come to a three-way tie. Ray voted for the Wisconsin State Police. Thatcher wanted to continue the investigation themselves while Fraser campaigned for the States Attorney.  
“We don't have any evidence sayin' the sheriff or the police chief are in on it.” Ray reasoned.  
“That's why we should continue investigating.” Meg countered, leaning forward at the booth table.  
“Both ideas would still leave us with the same dilemma: whom to turn the case over to?” Fraser pointed out.  
“Look, why don't we split up, one of us go to the public library while the others collect Mayor Beady's original bumper.” Margaret suggested. She'd long since tired of arguing about it al with Vecchio.  
“I got the body shop,” Vecchio piped up.  
“The library is fine for me.” Ben said, tapping his cast.  
Both me looked to Meg for her assignment.  
“I could spend more time with Ben,” she thought. “But Vecchio may need back-up.”  
With a resigned sigh, Meg volunteered to go with Vecchio.  
“Yay me, not!” she thought.  
*****


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More on the way.

Ray and Margaret dropped Ben off at the public library on their way back to Chowder's Collision Center. To say the silence between Thatcher and Vecchio was awkward would be an understatement. Ray drove the rental car slowly, eyes front. Dief hung his head out the window, oblivious to the humans.  
“Great, silence, at least if he insulted me I could retaliate.” Meg thought.   
“The collision center closes at five, we can wait.” Meg suggested, glad the silence was over.  
“So does the library, what'll Fraser do 'til we get back?” Vecchio turned on her,   
“Constable Fraser will simply have to wait, Detective.” Meg answered, her hackles rising.  
“You are one cold fish, Inspector.” Nothing new about that observation for Meg. Still, it stung.  
“Fraser would do the same if the shoe, ah, cast, were on the other foot, so to speak.” She stared straight ahead, intently ignoring Vecchio. They sat in uneasy silence for at least an hour, until Dief barked for a bathroom break. Meg scrambled out to accommodate the wolf-dog.  
******  
Fraser settled himself comfortably in front of the micro-film a few minutes after entering the public library. He'd had very few opportunities to use on of the bulky machines. Ben had been a young man before seeing his first, permanent library.  
“Let me know if you need anything,” a gushing, young librarian offered.   
Ben gave her a thank you kindly before digging into Williamsport history  
****   
“I've met speed readers, but you take the cake.” the young librarian commented, her fingers toying with long, auburn curls.  
“Thank you kindly, ah, Hope.” Ben read her name tag a moment before reaching for a pad of paper.   
The young woman lingered, leaning against the heavy, wooden table where Fraser had set up his research. She sighed dreamily, pulling the Mountie away from his notes.   
“May I help you?” Ben asked, looking up at Hope.  
“I thought that maybe you and I could, I don't know, get coffee, when I get off work.” Her exuberance confused Ben. Truthfully, women, well – people in general – confused him.   
“Ah,” Ben began, his mind scrambling to frame a rejection.  
“Constable Fraser,” Margaret's voice cut him off.  
Ben knew the look on Margaret's face too well. He'd seen it when the stripper had propositioned him while on sentry duty and at every consular event when ladies danced too close.  
“Margaret, Ray, hello,” he greeted.  
“Another time maybe,” Hope said softly and slipped away.   
Ben watched Margaret walk toward him, glaring, while Ray smirked.  
“Do you have anything to report, Constable?” Margaret demanded.  
“Yes, Sir, here are my notes so far.” Ben handed her the pad of paper he'd borrowed.  
“Ready to go, Fraser?” Ray sat down across the table from him, leaning forward on his elbows.   
“No, not quite, Ray, I haven't searched through the high school yearbooks yet.” Ben indicated a stack of molding books to his left.  
“We'll help, right, Inspector?” Ray pushed out a chair for her directly across from Ben. Margaret sat down and grabbed a yearbook, glaring at Ray silently.  
“Who are we looking for?” Margaret finally asked.  
“Winston Charles Beady, the Mayor, Harold Blackwell, the Sheriff and Adam Cartwright, the Police Chief.” Fraser answered in a low voice.   
Each of the investigators added to Fraser's notes, though the yearbooks did little other than give them insight into the suspects' personality profiles.  
“The library closed in ten minutes,” came a harsh voice over the loud speaker at 4:50 pm.  
“Ray, Margaret and Ben were glad to leave. The yearbooks smelled musty and their stomachs rumbled angrily.  
“Finally,” Ray breathed, laying his yearbook on the stack.  
Fraser graciously thanked the three, fifty-something librarians and Hope before they left the building. Ray couldn't help but snicker at Margaret's jealous, green-eyed glare.  
“Were you able to find the Mayor's original bumper?” Ben asked once they were in the Riv.  
“Yes, Chowder's Collision Center hadn't disposed of it yet. Detective Vecchio identified it immediately.” Meg filled Ben in from her seat in the back, Dief dozing beside her.  
“Good, now all we have to do is present our case to the state's attorney.” Fraser nodded resolutely. That started their earlier argument over again.  
******   
Dief snored steadily, laying on his dog bed in the corner. The air conditioner hummed, chilling the room to sixty-five degrees Fahrenheit.  
“It's been a long day.” Ben sighed, lifting his casted leg onto a mound of spare pillows at the foot of the bed.   
“Hmm, it has,” Meg agreed, perched on the side of the bed. She vigorously rubbed lotion onto her bare feet.   
“Williamsport is a lovely town, reminds me of home.” Ben pulled the covers away from Margaret's pillows for her. She'd barely said five words since leaving the library, though both Ben and Ray had included her in the conversation.   
“Mmm hmm,” Meg agreed, twisting the cap on the lotion bottle tightly.  
“Margaret,” Ben spoke.  
“Yes,” she answered, not looking at him.   
“Margatet, have I done something, said something to upset you?” He watched her closely, noting the tension in her shoulders and the way she held herself, arms around her torso.  
“No,” she said at first, “well, yes,” She sighed, turning to look at him finally.  
“You didn't do anyting intentionally to upset me, Ben. It's illogical, I know, but when you're polite to a woman like that air headed librarian, who was so obviously fawning over you, it upsets me.” she let it spill, giving Ben an honest piece of her mind.   
“On the other hand, I know, in my head, that's just the way you are. My head and my heart are at odds.” she shook her head in frustration.  
Ben sat up and scooted across the queen size bed. He would have never suspected her of feeling that strongly.   
“Come here,” he pulled her against him, pressing a kiss to her cheek.  
“I understand your feelings, Meg. I've often felt envious of your other suitors, the ease with which you talked and interacted.” Ben put his arms around her, Meg's back to his chest.  
“Envious? You?” Meg turned to look at him. Her expression softened.  
“Yes, terribly jealous.” Ben looked her squarely in the eye.   
“I'm sorry, I had no idea.” Meg planted a soft kiss to his lips.   
“You have nothing to worry about, it's you I love, Margaret.” Ben assured her, holding her tighter.  
“Oh, Ben, I love you too.”   
**********


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter ... finally !! =)

BOOM BOOM BOOM  
Ray stumbled out of bed, one eye open and his left PJ leg up around his knee.   
“What?” he demanded, yanking open the hotel door.   
“Good morning, Ray. We brought breakfast.” Fraser held up a brown bag while Thatcher held a tray of coffee cups.   
“You could get shot doin' that to a guy.” Ray helped himself to one of the coffees before pulling down his PJ leg.  
“I'm sorry, Ray. We didn't realize you intended to sleep in.” Fraser apologized.  
Ray's alarm read 6:29 AM, in large, demon red script.  
“Sleep in! It's 6:29 AM, that's not sleeping in, Fraser.” The detective ran his free hand over his head, standing the few, remaining hair wisps on end.  
“Give me that,” he snatched the brown bag from Meg's hand. That signaled Dief, who'd been laying on the bed to clamor for food.  
“The tenderloin and egg is for Diefenbaker.” Meg informed Ray as he sat wrapped biscuits on the table near the door.  
Ray dropped the biscuit in the wolf-dog's general area, barely pulling his fingers away in time.   
“Sheesh,” Ray exclaimed, jumping back.  
“We have excellent news,” Ben began Ray nodded, engrossed in his breakfast.  
“Margaret and I contacted the Wisconsin State Police, they have consented to investigate Mrs. Johnson's death.” Fraser went on to explain the whole situation, complete with interruptions from Thatcher.   
“Alright, when do we meet the detective?” Ray rubbed his hands together in anticipation.   
“One o'clock this afternoon.” Thatcher answered, checking her watch.  
“Good, I'll check in at him, we'll have lunch then drive over.” Ray affirmed. They agreed to meet at the diner in a few hours for lunch and then went their separate ways.  
********  
Packed and ready, the investigators loaded into the Riviera. It had been a long, frustrating investigation – for everyone but Diefenbaker. His human's pack mate was generous with snacks.  
Detective Alden with the Wisconsin State Police greeted them cordially. An average looking fellow, he wore a neatly trimmed goatee and shook hands firmly.  
“What can I do for you today?” Detective Alden looked from one to the others as he sat down at his orderly but brimming desk. Over the next half hour they filled him in on the story so far.  
Thatcher's appendix  
Premonition  
Chasing the hit-and-run  
Missing Mountie – recovery  
Arrest  
Wisconsin Investigation  
Alden blinked twice, digesting the narrative.  
“I wouldn't believe it either had I not been involved, Detective Alden.” Meg assured him.   
“Well, I'll admit I'm still skeptical but I'll go along. When you called I ran your credentials; all three of you.” Fraser looked to Thatcher who frowned, then to Ray, who looked bashful.  
“You check out; got a reputation for this kind of case even.” He looked at them steadily, his words ripe with meaning.  
“Show me your evidence.” Detective Alden suggested.  
Ray led the way out to the Riviera. Opening the trunk, he revealed a heavily damaged Cadillac bumper.  
“Huh, not much to go on. I'll give it to the forensics team, see what they come up with.” Alden pulled a pair of latex gloves from his breast pocket and lifted the bumper out. Fraser handed over a copy of his research notes and Ray handed the detective his business card.  
“I'll let you know what we find. Have a safe trip.” Detective Alden nodded before heading back into the state police post.  
“Well, that's that, we'll never hear from him again.” Ray groused as he climbed into the Riv.   
“Don't be so pessimistic, Ray. Detective Alden seems like a fair man.” Fraser said with genuine belief.  
“As much as I loathe to, I agree with Detective Vecchio.” Meg slid into the back seat next to Dief.  
“What other recourse do we have now?” Ben turned toward the window, disappointed in his friends for their lack of faith.   
Ray and Meg remained silent.  
*****   
Ben remained at Meg's apartment after their Wisconsin trip. They'd become accustomed to each other and developed a comfortable routine: Ben woke first, dressed, made breakfast and packed lunches for them. Meanwhile, Dief ate breakfast and went for a walk solo. Meg woke, dressed and then joined Ben for their morning meal. Her morning disposition had greatly improved since Ben's arrival.  
“Have you heard from Joshua or Mrs. Reitman?” Meg asked a few days after getting back to Chicago.  
“I believe she called Ray yesterday, to thank him for his hospitality.” Ben informed her as he peeled an orange for them to share.   
“Oh, really,” Meg grinned wickedly.   
“He seems quite taken with Mrs. Reitman.” she remarked.  
“Hmm, I hadn't really noticed.” Ben shrugged before popping an orange slice in his mouth.  
“I doubt that,” Meg shook her head, slowly eating her own orange slice. Ben looked over the morning paper, surprised. No one had called his bluff in a long time. Well, his father, but a dead man didn't count.  
“Hello, hello!” followed by a cheerful knock interrupted Ben's answer.  
Meg opened the door for Ray, who strolled in with a grin.  
“Good news, Mayor Beady was arrested. The WSP picked him up on a routine traffic stop; suspected DUI. He's lawyer'd up but Detective Alden is confident everything will come out.” Ray helped himself to a cup of coffee and one of Fraser's orange slices.  
“That's wonderful, Ray. You'll have to call Mrs. Reitman and inform her.” Ben suggested.  
“I already did.” Ray sat down at the table, a smug expression on his long face.  
Ben watched Meg take a sip of coffee, a grin hidden behind her mug. She couldn't hide the amusement in her dark eyes though.  
“Where does that leave Joshua Reitman?” Meg asked, straight-faced.  
“His lawyer says restitution and community service. The lady he clipped isn't pressing charges and Fraser here put in a good word for him; along with an 'extenuating circumstances' spiel.” Ray shrugged, “Six months from now it'll all be a bad dream.”   
“I hope he's learned something from all this.” Meg shook her head, staring into space.  
“Juanita, ah, his mother, says he's more determined to get his criminal justice degree now than ever.”  
Ben and Meg exchanged knowing glances.   
“Anyway, I have to get to the station, Welsh is shoutin' his head off about my paperwork.” Ray rinsed his coffee mug and set it in the basin. “See ya later, Fraser, Inspector,” He let himself out.  
“That takes care of that.” Ben commented as he gathered their breakfast dishes.  
“It does,” Meg agreed though sounding less than enthused.  
Ben turned, a question on his lips.  
“We should go, Vecchio isn't the only one behind on paperwork.” she handed Ben her coffee cup and rose from the table.  
While Constable Turnbull stood sentry duty and ran Meg's errands Ben worked on past due paperwork. He wore his dress serge, with the pant leg split for his cast. The part of Ben's brain not answering the consulate phone or typing pondered Meg's reaction to the end of the case. She sounded hollow to him. A happy ending should have pleased her.  
Dief dozed under the foyer desk – no help. Ben had yet to see his father's ghost. That left Ray.  
“Vecchio,” Ray answered over the background noise.  
“Ray, are you free for lunch?” Ben asked, hoping to talk over a burger and fries.   
“Uh, no, not really, Fraser. Welsh is riding me about my unsolved cases. Take a rain check?”   
Ben heard paper shuffling and the lieutenant bellowing in the background.  
“Some other time then, Ray. I'm sorry to have interrupted.” Ben hung up feeling disappointed. The rest of the day passed slowly. Both Ben and Meg worked through lunch and late into the evening.  
Turnbull left at four o'clock, along with the rest of the consular staff. At seven Ben decided to check on Meg.  
“Inspector Thatcher,” he tapped on her door quietly. When he didn't hear a response he pushed the door open. Meg sat at her desk, her chin resting on her left fist and her reading glasses still perched on her nose – sound asleep. Ben couldn't help but smile. He hated to wake her.  
“Margaret,” He gently pulled off her glasses, folded them and laid them on the desk blotter.   
“Margaret, it's late,” Ben caressed her cheek.   
“Hmm,” she pulled back, startled. “What time is it?” she blinked a moment before wiping the sleep from her eyes and yawning.   
“Five past seven; time to leave.” Ben answered. Despite the self-prescribed physical therapy the Mountie's leg ached from over-use.   
“Yes, it is.” Quickly, Meg straightened her desk and turned off the computer. Balanced on one foot, Ben helped her into her suit jacket. Together, they left for Meg's apartment.  
Meg kicked off her pumps just inside the front door. She felt Dief's bushy tail swarp across her legs as he headed toward the food bowl.  
“We have leftover spaghetti and meatballs, would you like fresh garlic bread?” Ben offered as he watched her slip out of her suit jacket. She hadn't said more than a few words on the ride home.  
“That sounds good, thank you.” She gave Ben a weary smile. Without another word, Meg walked away, toward the bedroom. A moment later Ben heard the shower start up. He debated on his next course of action – find out what bothered her or let her sort it out.   
Whatever the answer, dinner came first.   
***   
Meg ate mechanically, chewing bites of spaghetti, salad and fresh garlic bread without truly tasting any of it. Ben tried to start a conversation, asking about an important dignitary visiting soon.  
“I'm tired, I'm going to bed early.” Meg declared, cutting Ben off. She couldn't pretend anymore, Ben would leave soon; leave her alone again. Who would be there to turn the covers down or peel her oranges with breakfast?  
“This is stupid. I lived thirty-odd years just fine without him. I can do it again.” she told herself.  
“You don't want to though.” an inner voice pointed out.  
All Meg's reason and logic warred against her heart. She knew beyond all doubt, Ben loved her. He'd told her so – and he never lied. Logic dictated otherwise. Ben loved her – for now. Once back in his own apartment – once separated – he'd just feel differently. She remembered the sick, dread feeling when he had been missing. This felt worse.  
Meg closed her eyes and tried to block the feeling out. She felt like screaming. Reviled, she drew up in a fetal ball and rocked herself to sleep.  
****   
Ben slipped into bed after letting Dief out and waiting for him to come back. Meg lay curled in a self-protective ball in the center of the large bed. In the dim glow of the bedside lamp, Ben noticed her tear smudged mascara.  
“This won't do,” he thought.   
“Margaret,” he caressed her cheek as he spoke. Sound asleep, she nuzzled into his touch.  
“Talk to me, Margaret,” Ben tried again. Finally, her eyes opened and her gaze rose to his face.  
“What's wrong?” Meg looked off to the glaring, red alarm clock – 11:04.  
“You've been crying.” Ben answered simply. He watched her sit up, clutching the summer quilt as she moved.  
“I'm overly tired, that's all.” she shrugged as she tried to wipe away mascara trails from her cheeks.  
“You have but to ask, remember, Margaret?” Ben gently turned her chin to face him.  
Meg let out a growling sigh.   
“I don't want you to go.” she stated flatly.  
Ben turned his head to the side, confused.  
“Where would I go?” he asked.  
“When you get out of that cast you'll go back to your apartment, you'll go back to investigating with Vecchio. Everything will go back to the way it was before the hit-and-run,” she looked away.  
“Margaret,” She refused to look at him, her jaw clenched.  
“Margaret,” Ben repeated.  
“Don't go, Benton,” Meg turned to him, her brown eyes pleading.  
Ben hadn't realized she felt that attached; that strongly.  
“I'm not going anywhere.” Pulling her close, Ben kissed her, tasting salt from her tears.   
He'd never leave her.  
The End

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not certain where I'm going with this one. Any input would be appreciated.


End file.
